Second Life
by Nia River
Summary: ABANDONED. After the disastrous end to 5th year Harry is alone at Privet Drive contemplating the losses in his life. When he discovers a time-turner he decides to go back to the beginning and set things right. Naturally, things don't go according to plan.
1. Making Plans

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: __This is my first attempt at fan fiction. Please let me know what you think of it and if it's worth my continuing. Also, if it's actually total crap and I'm just too attached to it to notice, then feel free to tell me._

**Chapter 1 – Making Plans**

**– **_Tues, 30/7/1996_ **–**

Harry sat curled up in a ball in the corner of his bedroom at Privet Drive, gaze focussed intently at the object in his hands. Possibilities were turned over and over in his mind as he once again contemplated the disastrous discussion that had taken place in Dumbledore's office.

A prophecy. A prophecy foretelling that he, Harry James Potter, was the one destined to defeat Voldemort. A prophecy that by all rights he should have already know. A destiny that he should have been trained and prepared for. But where had the training been; where was the preparation?

He had instead grown up ignorant of not only his destiny, but also of even the most basic knowledge of his world. Said childhood – if one could call it by such an erroneous title – had in actuality been spent mostly in a small cupboard, learning such useful things as just how long a boy can go without food or sunlight.

Yet another thing to blame on Dumbledore, he realised. The old man had been the one to send him there. Personally delivered him right to the doorstep. And he just knew that his parents would not have wanted that, which brought up the question of their will. Was it simply not up to date, or did they not think to include alternate guardians if Sirius was somehow unable to take him in. Or had the old man simply ignored their wishes in favour of his own.

Added to that, he had even _admitted_ that he knew Harry was mistreated there. But it was for the best, wasn't it? For the greater good. Because Albus Dumbledore knew better. 'To hell with Dumbledore,' he thought viciously, once again cursing the headmaster's manipulative personality and his obsessive need to control everything and every_one_. He wondered why he had never noticed those traits in him before but cast it aside as irrelevant.

Suddenly he sighed wearily and deflated, admitting to himself that despite his actions Dumbledore wasn't an evil man. He was simply a misguided one – _very_ misguided – who was overconfident in himself. He honestly and truly thought he was doing the right thing.

That didn't excuse it of course, but it helped to drain some of the anger he directed at his former mentor. Still, he doubted he'd ever put as much faith in the old man again. Things could have been so different if Dumbledore had only been honest with him; so very different.

It had all started with 'the dream', as he had taken to referring to it. More specifically the false dream. The vision that had lured him stupidly to the Ministry of Magic.

The dream was the reason for all of it. The reason the Weasleys all broke down every time their youngest son was mentioned. The reason said son had begged for his life to be ended. The reason a bright bushy haired young witch would never again walk the halls of Hogwarts. The reason he would never see his godfather ever again or hear his voice.

He cursed himself again. If only he had used the mirror; if only he'd listened to Hermione; if only the headmaster had just been honest with him; if only, if only, if only… But 'if onlys' were useless and the damage was done. He'd gone, his friends had followed, and all hell had broken loose.

Neville, Luna and Ginny had fared the best of the lot – after Harry that is. Their injuries were painful certainly, but nothing compared to the fate that had befallen his two best friends.

Ron had been attacked by flying brains – off all things – and had things turned out differently Harry knew they would have laughed at the irony of it. As it was however, Ron had lost his mind. Or to be more accurate he had gain several minds; minds of some of Wizarding history's worst sociopaths. To make matter worse Ron was still in there but was not the dominant personality.

Harry let a tear fall, remembering the hateful words his once best mate would spew at the friends and family he once loved. The redhead was now kept in a secure hospital room and would likely never be released. Worse still was the one time when Ron had actually managed to overpower the personalities whilst Harry was alone with him.

"Harry," a voice rasped and a dark head shot up.

"R-Ron, is it really you?"

"Yeah. Mate you got to," he paused as though struggling within himself – which he likely was, "You gotta end it. End me. P-please."

"End it?" he repeated in shock, "What? No! No Ron you just have to keep fighting. They'll figure out a way to make you bett-"

"No! Just coz I can't talk Harry, doesn't mean I can't hear," Harry's heart fell at the hopelessness in his friend's voice, "The doctors said that there was no way- no way."

The redhead groaned in frustration before an evil smirk settled over his features. Harry took a deep breath and sure enough insults and curses began spewing from his friends too-pale lips as another personality took over.

Ron wasn't the only one forever changed. Hermione, usually so lively and energetic was now but a shadow of herself. She was caught across the front with a dark version of the cutting curse. She still had the scar, purple, ugly and ropy looking. Due to the nature of the curse it had yet to properly heal and probably never would.

She was constantly in pain – especially when trying to walk around – and would be for the rest of her life. She needed help with most everyday tasks when the pain got too bad, and she now spent most of her time in the magical version of a wheelchair.

As if the blow to her pride wasn't enough, the death eater had then thrown a dark confundus-style curse at her. She was now permanently unable to focus and think clearly at all, thus destroying what she valued most in herself and that which most defined her – her intelligence. She was utterly devastated.

Then there was Sirius. He stifled a sob. Harry wasn't sure which hurt ran deepest – having to see the shadows of themselves that his friends had become, or the thought of never seeing his godfather again.

I didn't really matter which it was though, he thought as he wiped away his tears. It didn't matter because the might be a way – a way to change it all.

His eyes focussed back of the object in his hand. A time-turner. He'd found it a few hours ago in the pocket of a school robe whilst going through his trunk. He could only assume that it had somehow slipped in during the fighting in the Time Room at the Department of Mysteries. His first thought was to go back and stop himself from going to the Ministry. Until that is, he took a closer look at the device.

It was different from the one he remembered Hermione had used – which had been small, silver and suspended on a chain. This was an even smaller hourglass, only about the length of his little finger and was an odd metallic purple colour with golden sand. Said sand seemed to constantly float up and down the glass irregardless of gravity and so he had a feeling that it was activated somewhat differently than being tipped end over end.

There were also odd symbols on the ends of planets and stars which reminded him of a wizard-style watch. In a flash of inspiration he realised that was just what it was. No doubt it needed to be set according to sun, moon and star positions rather than just turned over for every hour. He also had a feeling that the silver button in the centre of the symbols was used to activate the device.

As he considered that an unbelievable idea occurred to him. If this really worked the way he thought, then theoretically it means he could go back even further in time. Perhaps – just perhaps – he could even go back far enough to warn his parents about Pettigrew.

'I could have the childhood I always wanted,' he thought excitedly, 'a childhood with my parents.'

A look of determination etched itself across his face as he stored the time-turner under the loose floorboard and stood up.

The most obvious complication was that unauthorised time-travel was highly illegal in the eyes of the Ministry. The best thing to do would be to form a false identity, he decided. He also needed to decide just how far back he needed to travel to give himself time to achieve all his goals. First things first, he would need to pull out his Astronomy books and perform all the necessary calculations for his destination settings. Then he would need to pack all his belongings for the trip. Lastly he needed to decide what to do once he got there.

Now he just had to make it happen.

..ooOOoo..

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	2. Departures and Arrivals

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

**Chapter 2 – Departures and Arrivals**

**– **_Tues, 30/7/1996_ **–**

It was nearing midnight at Privet Drive. The only light on the street – apart from the streetlamps – emanated from the window of the smallest bedroom of the residence at number four. In said bedroom there was to be found a darkhaired young man – none other than Harry Potter – and surrounding him were a number of parchments littered with calculations.

With a relieved sigh Harry finally set down his quill and leaned back to survey his work. He had wished a number of times over the last hour or so that he had either paid more attention in Astronomy lessons or that he had the old Hermione handy to do the work for him. Either way it would have gone rather more quickly.

Still, although it had taken him some time he believed he had finally finished the calculations for his destination. He had decided the best course of action would be to go back a month before the fateful Halloween of 1981, setting his destination at around the end of the September preceding it.

A month should give him enough time to get into contact with his parents – most probably via Dumbledore as they would already be under the Fidelius Charm with Sirius as secret keeper at that point. All he needed to do was convince them not to switch to Pettigrew.

Rubbing tiredly at his eyes he looked over at his battered second-hand alarm clock.

"Eleven fifty-one," he muttered to himself.

In just under ten minutes he would be sixteen years old. Call him sentimental but he had decided to wait for the clock to turn over before he made his trip back. 'For traditions sake if nothing else,' he thought sadly since this year his two best friends were hardly in any condition to be buying and sending gifts. Pushing his morose thoughts aside he turned his mind elsewhere.

He had at first considered waiting the extra day for the first of August when his OWL results would arrive, but decided not to bother. He didn't know when they would come and didn't want to risk being moved to Order headquarters before it happened, where he would be constantly watched. Besides, he wouldn't need them where he was going.

Harry looked over to his clock again.

"Eleven fifty-five," he said to himself, "Five minutes to go."

He had expected to feel at least a bit nervous but found he was only determined and resolute. He _would_ change things. Things _would_ be better. Nothing else was acceptable.

Grabbing his mostly packed trunk he loaded in the books, parchment and quill he had been using and closed it up. He was taking the time turner from its place on his desk when a flash of white from his window caught his attention. He immediately cursed himself. Hedwig. He couldn't believe he'd almost forgotten about her. Approaching his snowy owl he petted her gently and she affectionately nipped at his fingers.

"Hey girl," she chirped, "You know what I'm going to do?" he asked.

She chirped again and he took it to mean yes. He was unsurprised, as Hedwig had always struck him as rather intelligent. He had spent the morning devising his plan aloud to her, as he was want to do when there was nobody else around to talk to. She had of course listened intently as always and he had no doubt she'd understood his intentions far more than your average owl would have. He only hoped he wouldn't have to give up her valued companionship when he made his journey.

"So, I'm about to leave and I have to know. Do you want to come with?"

He held his breath in expectation – then sighed and gave a relieved smile when she chirped emphatically to the positive. A quick glance to the clock showed the that three minutes had past since he had last checked, so he picked up the piece of parchment with his final calculation circled in red. Looking from the top of the time turner to the parchment he began moving the various clocklike hands until the sun, moon and various stars and planets were aligned as he needed them to be.

"Come here girl," he called to Hedwig who flew over and perched himself on his outstretched arm.

Casting an appraising glance from Hedwig and his trunk then over to Hedwig's cage he decided it was really far too bulky and would have to be left behind. He tapped his trunk with his wand and watched as the inbuilt feature activated, shrinking it down, before putting it in his pocket. Then he wrapped one arm firmly Hedwig, holding her close whilst the one she sat perched upon held the time-turner. Since this time turner didn't seem to have a chain to loop across the travellers' necks he could only hope holding his feathered friend near him and the turner would be enough. Cradling her even closer – wanting to be as sure as possible she wouldn't be left behind – he glanced once again at the time. Eleven fifty-nine.

"Any second now," he said, his eyes remaining glued to the clock.

Then several things happened at once. Firstly, the numbers on the clock switched from eleven fifty-nine to midnight. Secondly, Harry held Hedwig even closer and pressed the silver button atop the time-turner. Then lastly – though most certainly not least – the wards around Privet Drive collapsed as Harry Potter left his time behind in a blinding flash of light.

..ooOOoo..

He felt light, uncomfortably insubstantial. Then there was a sort of squeezing which suddenly eased into a feeling of gliding. Almost as though there were no resistance at all. It really was a lovely feeling. Then the squeezing was back before it suddenly eased again. This time without the gliding he had found himself so fond of. He didn't really mind though because he now found that he could feel magic everywhere. It hung so very thickly in the air and he loved the feeling. This was so much better than gliding. He pulled it into himself greedily as he floated about. And oh, but he could float about like this forever. And he would have; but an annoying feeling of _wrongness_ niggled in the back of his thoughts. It was the lightness. The floating was so very nice, but still the lightness just didn't seem right. It felt so uncomfortable and wrong. But then the solution came to him. And it was so very obvious. Why he was positively surrounded in magic. So very much magic. And what did magic do? Lots of things of course. It moved things and changed things and stopped things and started things. It even fixed things. And that's just what he would use it for; to fix the lightness. And so he did. And immediately wished he hadn't.

Oh, but it hurt! It hurt so, so much. It was like he was being ripped into an infinite number of tiny pieces and then slowly put together. He tried to cry out and for several moments nothing happened. Then there was a horrible sound and he realised he'd finally remembered how to scream. The back of his mind registered that there seemed to be someone else shrieking shrilly nearby but he soon forgot as the pain continued.

After what seemed an eternity the pain stopped and all that was left was the memory of it. He calmed down as he felt the magic around him again. Even without the floating it felt very nice. He began pulling it into himself again, wanting to feel it even closer. But suddenly it felt as though it was too much. Far too much. Then everything went black.

..ooOOoo..

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	3. St Mungo’s

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Fixed date. Sorry about that. He arrived in the past Sat, 23/1/1988 and woke 2 weeks later Sat, 6/2/1988_

**Chapter 3 – St. Mungo's **

– _Sat, 6/2/1988_ –

When next he awoke it was to a white ceiling and a familiar smell. 'Damn,' he thought, 'what did I do to end up in the hospital wing this time?' He reached a hand out to the bedside table beside him and fumbled for his glasses. As everything came into focus he sat up and looked about himself. Not the hospital wing after all, he realised. 'I wonder where I am then.' As if in answer to his silent question a woman bustled in through the door and stopped in surprise at seeing him up and aware.

"Goodness, we didn't expect to see you up and about for a while yet sir," she remarked before re-finding her businesslike air and hurrying over to begin casting diagnostic spells on him.

"Umm ma'am," she finished her spells and looked up at him questioningly, "Er, not to sound rude but who are you? And where am I?"

"Oh of course, I should have introduced myself sooner," she smiled, reassuring him no offence was taken at his rather abrupt questions, "I'm Healer Smyth, but feel free to call me Alice. You're currently in St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. I assume you know where that is?"

"Yes of course," he nodded.

"Well dear, you were brought in to me after the Aurors investigated a sudden magical power fluctuation. Apparently the disturbance occurred in a muggle home in Surrey. Because of the bright flash of light the muggle authorities thought you had been elekituted – I believe the word is."

"Electrocuted," Harry corrected.

"Yes that's the word. Anyway you'd already been transferred to a muggle hospital by the time the Aurors arrived. Apparently the muggle residents where in a right tizzy. The gentleman was yelling something about freaks in his home or some such. Fortunately they've been obliviated."

He started at this little piece of information and almost slapped himself. The Dursleys were probably already living at number four and given their general opinion of magic would not have reacted well to a person magically appearing in their home in a flash of light. He really ought to have taken precautions such as finding somewhere else to leave from. Oh well, the damage was already done – and erased it seemed.

"Anyhow you were transferred directly here to St. Mungo's once they found you and realised what had happened," Healer Alice continued, "The Aurors will want to question you of course. Rumour is there are a few Unspeakables with them too. They're really quite curious as to what happened. Even tried to search through your belongings; can you believe the nerve of them?"

Harry's heart skipped a beat. If the Aurors searched his belongings they were almost certain to find the time-turner, and the Unspeakables were sure to recognise it for what it was. If that had happened then all his plans were ruined.

"Did they?" he croaked nervously.

"Well of course not. I told them off right proper I did. Honestly, you're lying here unconscious and there they were more concerned with snooping at your things. Well I told them they had absolutely no right and should be ashamed of themselves. Your things are safe and sound in my office now dear, not to worry."

He sighed in relief and threw her a thankful look. Before he had time to dwell on what might have happened had Healer Alice not interfered, a far more important question occurred to him.

"Hedwig," he asked anxiously, "What happened to Hedwig."

"Hedwig?" she asked confused.

"My owl. She's a snowy white owl and she was with me when – well when what happened, happened."

"Oh the little lady. Not to worry dear, your owl is just fine. Curious thing though. Now magical exhaustion, that's not exactly your everyday ailment, although it does happen from time to time. But magical overcharge – that's what you had – well that's a tad bit rarer still. And then to find not only you but your Hedwig suffering from it. Well was it not for patient confidentiality the Aurors would no doubt have been poking their noses in again, had they known of that particular curiosity."

"So she's alright then?"

"Yes, most certainly. She wasn't nearly as affected as you were. Woke up five days into your stay in a right snit. She's been acting every inch a queen ever since."

"That's my Hedwig," he smiled before a worrying thought occurred to him, "Wait, five day? Just how long have I been unconscious?"

"Today would make it an even two weeks," she informed him and then had to stop his leaping out of bed.

"You don't understand, there's something I have to do and I have a limited time to do it. It's really very important."

"Sir," she said suddenly quite stern, "you will desist with this behaviour immediately! If it has waited two weeks then it can certainly wait another few hours."

Properly cowed, he immediately sat back in bed. She gave him a satisfied nod before smiling gently and tucking his blankets back in around him, and he was left wondering how anyone could be such a perfect mix of Molly Weasley's motherliness and Madam Pomfrey strictness all at once.

"Now before I call in the Aurors I'll need you to clear up a few things for me. Firstly I'll need your name," she looked at him expectantly, quill posed to take down his name.

"Er, well you see," he squirmed uncomfortably, knowing he couldn't give her his real name, "The thing is. I, um – forget! That's it I forget."

He nodded emphatically and she hummed understandingly.

"And as to how you found yourself in such a state to begin with dear?"

"I forget that as well," he said thinking her fooled until she suddenly pinned him with a stern glare.

"You child, are a horrible liar."

"What, I-" he spluttered rather ineffectually and she gave a long-suffering sigh.

"I assume you intended to try that story on the Aurors too?"

"Er, maybe?"

"Yes well, they would have believed you about as much as I did. That is to say not at all."

Harry rubbed at his eyes in frustration. If he was forced into telling the truth everything would be ruined. Things were going badly enough as it was. Alice gave him a long look before coming to a decision.

"Well not to worry," she chirped cheerily, much to his confusion.

"Not to worry? You don't understand. They can't know; it would ruin everything."

"Yes but you see there's a little matter of patient confidentiality. And a wonderfully useful thing it is too."

"Patient confidentiality?"

"Exactly. And the wizarding laws in regards to it are rather sketchy you see. So if I, as your lawfully appointed Healer, were to decide that something – let's say your name, just for examples sake – were to be confidential, then there's really nothing they could do about it. In fact, as they've yet to get a very good look at you, I might even be inclined to decide that your entire identity falls under patient confidentiality."

She smiled triumphantly at him as he was left gaping in surprise.

"Do close your mouth dear, you look like a fish," she chided and he did so with a snap.

"Why are you doing this? Not that I don't appreciate it,' he added hurriedly, "Because I do. I _really_ do. It's just that it seems to be asking rather a lot on your part."

"The answer is really quite simple. You seem a trustworthy sort."

"I seem trustworthy," disbelief obvious in his voice, "Despite the fact that I've yet to answer one of your questions truthfully? No offence but how in Merlin's name did you come to that conclusion?"

"I'm an Empath dear," she raised an eyebrow at his still-confused expression, "Empath's can sense other people; their emotions and such, sometimes even particularly strong thoughts. No need to panic now, I've not been reading your thoughts. My ability is rather limited. I get faint feelings of emotions, no thoughts. I can usually tell whether someone is being truthful or not – and no I didn't need that to tell you were being untruthful earlier; you're simply that bad a liar. Anyhow my most useful ability is to be able to sense whether a person has good intentions and whether they're trustworthy. That's how I know you're a good, trustworthy sort."

"Oh," he said, unsure of what else to say, "Well, thank you."

"Not a problem. Besides they've been awfully annoying, nosing in where they don't belong for the past two weeks. It'll be nice to get them back a bit," she grinned, "Now how about I draw these curtains so no one will see you and call in our friendly authorities, hmm?"

The interview that followed was rather amusing. Or at the least it was for Harry and Alice – not so much for the Aurors. Firstly they had to speak to him through a curtain as Alice informed them they were not authorised to see his face. And secondly he answered the barest minimum of questions with Alice informing them that the majority of them fell under 'patient confidentiality'. In the end it was a frustrated group of Aurors who trudged out of the hospital room, leaving a rather pleased Healer and patient.

"Can I leave now?" Harry asked eagerly as their guests left.

"I'm inclined to keep you here overnight," she raised her voice over his objection, "_However_, since you're technically completely fit and I do believe you have urgent business, I'm willing to release you now."

"Thank you!"

"Not a problem child. Now first I'll need a name for the file. Hush now, not to worry. You are now known as G445."

"G445?"

"If a patient wishes to remain anonymous that is of course their prerogative," she explained, "However we do need some way to keep track of them. Hence the assigned code. Next time you come in you can either do so under your proper name or under your codename alias. And if you decide your secrecy is no longer needed do let us know so that we can merge your files. It really is safer for you that we have access to all your medical information in one place. Just in case of an emergency you understand."

"Of course," he readily agreed.

"Alright then, your clothes are in the drawer to your left. I'm just off to fetch your belongings. You get changed out of that hospital gown in the meantime."

With that she bustled out of the room leaving Harry to get changed. Just as he finished tying the laces on his shoes there was a _hoot-hoot_ at the window and a weight fell on his shoulder.

"Hedwig," he exclaimed happily, "How's my best girl been?"

She hooted happily and he grinned. Just then Alice knocked on the door and he called her in. She was dragging his trunk behind her and carried a small box under one arm.

"Ah, good. I see your two have found each other. Now, here are your things."

She handed over the trunk and box. He surreptitiously opened the later and was relieved to see it contained his calculations sheet and his time-turner which had been missing from his trouser pockets. He glanced up to see what Alice thought of it but thankfully she appeared uninterested.

"Thank you," he said.

"Not a problem."

"No I mean – for everything," he expanded and she nodded and smiled.

"You're welcome and you're free to go now. Hopefully I'll not have a need to see you in here again," she said turning to leave.

"I hope so too ma'am."

"One last thing," she stopped at the door and looked at him, "Good luck with that urgent business of yours."

..ooOOoo..

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	4. Destination Error

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

**Chapter 4 – Destination Error **

– _Sat, 6/2/1988_ –

After explaining to Hedwig that he had errands to do today and to meet up with him later, Harry had taken the public floo at St. Mungo's directly to The Three Broomsticks in Hogsmeade. After picking himself up from the floor he headed out the door and into the street. The village was mostly as he remembered it. Old fashioned and picturesque, with a fine layer of snow still about. He wondered for a moment that the atmosphere of the village seemed so calm and serene. He had expected there to be a much tenser atmosphere in the wizarding world during this time of war.

He did not have long to dwell on that thought however as time was running short. He was intending to make his way to Hogwarts to see Dumbledore immediately. It seemed however that such a course of action was not to be. As it was he got only as far as the newsstand at the Owl Office where a certain detail caught his eye, stopping him in shock. Said shock quickly turned into disbelief, then just as quickly into horror.

"No, no, no, no, no," he muttered to himself, hoping that he'd been mistaken.

"Can I help you there sir?" the man behind the counter asked, drawing his attention.

"Yes. Can I get a copy of the Prophet please?"

He paid for his newspaper before wandering over to a bench and sitting down heavily. He ignored the curious looks of passersby and opened the newspaper on his lap without yet looking at it. Eyes closed, he took a deep breath hoping he had been mistaken. He then opened them and stared down at the paper. He hadn't been mistaken. There it was in black and white. 'Saturday, 6 February'.

It was supposed to be September 30. Now, a few months early would not have been such a terrible problem. An inconvenience perhaps, but nothing a little waiting could not have overcome. But then he kept reading. 'Saturday, 6 February, 1988'. Nineteen _eighty-eight_ it read. Not eighty-one as it was supposed to be but eighty-eight. He was almost seven years too late.

His immediate thought was to make another trip. Go back the extra seven or so years and finish his plan. But then he clamped down on his usually impulsive behaviour as another thought occurred to him.

"There's no way my calculations could have been so far off," he told himself in frustration, "A few days, or weeks or heck, even months might have been possible. But I'm off by years. It just doesn't make any sense."

He threw the paper to the ground and gave a short strangled scream. Ignoring the now wary looks he was getting, he stood up and began walking through the village. His boots crunched satisfyingly on the snow covered ground which, now he though of it, should have been a giveaway that he hadn't arrived when he was supposed to – it didn't snow in September after all. His angry footsteps helped ebb away some of his frustrations as his mind considered the situation.

He wanted to just ignore that the facts weren't adding up and try another trip anyway. But as much as he wanted to do so he knew that if the timer didn't work properly he could very well end up anywhere. Or rather any-_when_. He'd be no help at all if he jumped himself back to the time of the founders or some such.

His footsteps had by this stage led him out of the village and down the path toward the Shrieking Shack. Shoving his cold hands into his pockets, he tried to figure out where to go from here.

"What am I supposed to do? Mum and Dad are already dead, Sirius is imprisoned and I'd be seven years old and living with the Dursleys by now."

As he considered those facts the answer became blindingly obvious. There was nothing that he could do for his parents. And though he'd be lying if he said he wasn't disappointed, he realized there were other ways he could improve things.

For one he was not going to just leave Sirius to rot in Azkaban any longer than necessary. And secondly, there was no way he was going the leave a seven year old child with the Dursleys. He remembered well the hell that was his childhood and would never wish it on anyone else – even if that anyone else was technically he himself.

Luckily there was a simple way to accomplish both goals. Peter Pettigrew. The traitor should be living with the Weasleys by now. Ron wouldn't have received him yet so he should still be disguised as Percy's pet rat. All he needed to do was catch Pettigrew and take him into the Ministry. When he was questioned Sirius's innocence would be revealed. He had no doubt that his godfather would then offer to adopt young Harry who would eagerly accept.

It was a simple yet effective plan. It was sure to work.

..ooOOoo..

It was a complicated and ineffective plan. It didn't work.

Oh sure it had seemed like a good idea to start with, but lately his plans seemed to not work out the way he wanted them to.

First he had taken the Knight Bus to Ottery St. Catchpole. When he had arrived at the little village he snuck down an alleyway where he retrieved his invisibility cloak from his self-shrinking trunk which he then proceeded to re-miniaturise. Under the cloak he had made the five minute trip from the village to the familiar Weasley home, known as The Burrow.

At first it had seemed luck was on his side. All the children were out in the backyard. His attention was immediately drawn to a young Ron, looking happy and whole. He felt tears come to his eyes at the sight and had to take a moment to get control of himself again and focus on the task at hand. He looked around again at the other children, his attention stopping on one Percy Weasley. And in the young boy's hands was the very pet rat he had come looking for. Or so he had thought.

As he snuck up to the boy considering just how he would get the rat from him, he soon became frustrated and impatient. His emotions translated into a show of accidental magic, summoning the rat to him.

As the rodent came sailing towards him, first Percy and then the other Weasley children squealed in surprise. His own attention however was fixed on the rat. A strangely unfamiliar rat. A rat with all fingers and toes accounted for. He stared at the perfectly normal rodent which had fallen to the ground before him long enough for young Percy to race up and retrieve his pet. Harry barely paid him or the other chattering children any mind. He was confused. There was no way that rat was the traitor. And if a perfectly common magical rat was living at the Weasley's…

"Then where in Merlin's name is Pettigrew?" he finished aloud.

In a distinctly Hermione-ish moment he realised what needed to be done. Research.

..ooOOoo..

Since he did not have access to Hogwarts' extensive library, he decided to simply buy the books he would need, since he recalled that he had some leftover galleons in his money sack. While it was a good idea in theory, in practice it was not quite so simple. After flooing to the Leaky Cauldron in Diagon Alley – and once again having to pick himself up afterwards – he quickly headed towards Flourish and Blott's. Once there he spent a good hour searching for possibly helpful texts before it occurred to him to actually ask for assistance.

As it turned out books on time where not exactly the most common of reading and the few that the store possessed weren't what he was looking for. He was by this stage becoming rather short with the clerk and about to give up in frustration when the fellow made a comment.

"You seem pretty desperate to find out whatever it is you're looking to find out. Honestly, I don't know why you don't just go to the Library," the man said to him.

"The library? What library?" he asked and the man seemed confused at his confusion.

"Well, _The_ Library of course," then a thought seemed to occur to him, "Oh! You're muggle-born aren't you?"

"Er, well sort of yes," he admitted, "But what's that got to do with anything?"

"Well it explains why you've not heard of it. The Library's common knowledge to most wizarding folk," the man tsk'd, "They really ought to fill the muggle-borns in on these sorts of thing when they get to Hogwarts."

"I agree," Harry responded – partly because he did, and partly because the man looked set to launch into some rather extensive complaining, and Harry was feeling impatient to find out how to get to this library, "So where exactly is it?"

"Don't worry lad, it's easy enough to get to. The destination is 'The British Library, wizarding section'. You can just floo right on in."

After thanking the man he went back to the Leaky Cauldron and stepped into the green flames.

"The British Library, wizarding section," he spoke clearly and was whisked away.

Stumbling, but managing to keep on both feet, he wondered to himself if he was finally getting the hang of this floo thing. Then he looked up at his surroundings. He was thoroughly impressed. This had to be one of the biggest and most luxurious libraries he'd ever seen. Not quite Hogwarts standard in the way of size of course, but still impressive nonetheless.

He immediately began looking around for someone to help him. He soon spotted a woman with a badge reading 'Library Assistant' and headed over towards her. She was looking from the shelves to the scroll of parchment in her hands, her quill scratching away whatever it was she found.

Getting closer, Harry managed to get a good look at her. With her elaborately set greying blonde curls, high heeled boots, and rather ostentatiously bejewelled spectacles she reminded him disturbingly of an older version of Rita Skeeter. He almost turned around then and there before deciding that he really didn't want to spend another useless hour searching through books when he could just ask for assistance.

"Excuse he ma'am," he said hesitantly.

The woman, looking impatient at being interrupted, raised a questioning eyebrow in his direction.

"Sorry to interrupt you, but I was wondering if you had any good books on time-travel?"

Without a reply she turned on her heel and walked swiftly towards a bookshelf on the other side of the room. Her heels clacked loudly on the tiled floor as Harry struggled to keep up. When the reached the bookshelf the woman's finger's began dancing over the spines of the books until with an "Aha!" she pulled out the book she'd been looking for.

"Here," she said, handing him the huge book, "_Time-Travel Troubles and Trip-Ups_ by Viator Tempus. You'll find this to be the most thorough writing on the subject of time-travel. Now, if you'll excuse me."

Then without another word she turned away and clacked back to her desk before he could even offer a 'thank you'.

The heavy book was set down at a nearby table with a rather loud 'bang'. Wincing at the noise and the glares from the surrounding witches and wizards he quickly sat down. He immediately opened the book and began scanning for anything that could explain the obvious inconsistencies from this past to what it should have been. Turning to a random page near the beginning his attention was immediately caught and he began to read.

'…_Truly changing time is impossible._

_When one travels back in time anything they do will have already happened. If it hadn't then in changing it they would remember a past that had never truly happened, which is not possible. Besides that fact, if they could actually change something then their past self would have had no reason to change it in the first place and thusly they never would have time-travelled to begin with…'_

As he considered this he became even more confused. Did this mean he was supposed to go back in time all along? But if that was so then it meant that he wouldn't be able to make any changes to the timeline because the past he remembered was already set. Sirius couldn't be released from prison and he couldn't be rescued from the Dursleys.

"No," he told himself quietly but firmly, "I refuse to believe that. There has to be a way to change it all. And besides, none of this explains why Wormtail isn't where he's supposed to be."

So he kept reading, determined to figure this situation out. Had he perhaps inadvertently changed something somehow by travelling so far back? But no, that didn't make any sense. Frustrated, he tapped his fingers loudly on the table as he kept reading, then ignored the glares and "Shh"s as the information on the page began looking promising.

'…_It is theorised that should one somehow manage to cheat this rule and attempt to travel to a time when their future self had not already done so, the universe would intervene to prevent a paradox._

_It is most commonly believed that this would happen by the traveller being shunted sideways. And so whilst they would indeed travel to the desired destination in relation to time, they would also find themselves in an alternate dimension._

_For further information on alternate dimensions, this author humbly suggests the further reading of his highly lauded text, __**The Theories of Trans-Dimension Travel**__…'_

Frozen in shock he sits staring at the page for several minutes before it sinks in. He is in an alternate universe.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	5. Differences and Identities

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N(16Jun): Fixed date. Said Fri, 23/1/1998 for some obtuse reason. Should be Sat, 6/2/1988_

**Chapter 5 – Differences and Identities**

– _Sat, 6/2/1988_ –

After the shock over the fact that he was actually in an alternate universe had worn off – as much as such a shock could wear off – he quickly set to further research. He was able to find the relevant books well enough on his own by searching the history section and the Daily Prophet archives. Settling back at his desk with the additional texts he soon immersed himself in his study of the history of this world. He wanted to see if there were any obvious changes, and was devastated by what he found

For the most part this world's timeline seemed to run parallel to his own. The histories began to diverge however, sometime around the war against Voldemort.

Much like in his home dimension, Sirius was arrested on November 1, just after Halloween of 1981. Charged for the murder of Peter Pettigrew and twelve muggles, he received no trial like in Harry's dimension. The difference however was that instead of being sent to Azkaban he was given the kiss.

Overconfident with Sirius's destruction, Pettigrew grew lax and was spotted several months later and apprehended on January 1, 1982. After being subjected to Veritaserum the rat revealed all. The public had of course been as horrified to discover that an innocent man had suffered such a fate as the dementor's kiss.

The next obvious difference was with Barty Crouch Sr. Harry recalled that in his dimension Crouch had dropped in popularity when his son own son was revealed as a death eater. The whole fiasco destroyed any chance he had of reaching the position of Minister of Magic. Whilst the same was true in this new dimension, here he also had the addition of Sirius's unjust death blamed upon him. In the end the man was put to trial and sentenced to Azkaban after investigation uncovered he was also responsible for the unethical treatment of captured and untried prisoners; which Harry was fairly sure was merely a euphemism for torture.

He continued searching out any differences and in particularly looked for any information on Remus, wanting to know what happened to the last marauder in this dimension. There was little on him it turned out, other than a rather moving Prophet photograph of him at the funeral of Lily and James. There was also a mention of the werewolf in an article about Sirius's innocence. It said that Remus had not been seen since the news was revealed and was believed to have fled the wizarding world.

By this stage he had began wondering if perhaps this world was even worse that the one he came from, when he came across another difference; the Longbottoms. The Longbottoms of this dimension were subjected to torture the same as in his history; however the results were rather different. Frank Longbottom was driven past insanity and into death. Harry honestly wasn't sure whether to consider this a tragedy or a mercy. He continued reading and came across the only good difference he had yet to find. In this world, despite extensive Cruciatus torture, Alice Longbottom had survived and miraculously done so with her mind intact.

Under normal circumstances Harry's heart would have soared at the thought of the shy, but courageous Neville Longbottom being able to grow up with his mother. At the moment however, he took in all these revelations feeling only numb. He was still stuck on the fact that the Sirius here was dead and too late too be saved. Technically the man he was reading about had never been _his_ Sirius. His Sirius had died in the Department of Mysteries at the end of last term and he wouldn't be coming back – despite all Harry's best efforts otherwise.

Turning away from the other readers around him, lest they should look up and notice the tears falling down his face, he quietly allowed himself finish mourning for his godfather – the knowledge finally sinking in that he was truly gone and could not be saved. After a time he gave a sad sigh and wiped his eyes. Subtly looking around he was relieved that no one had noticed his quiet breakdown and he contemplated what to do next.

The fact of the matter was that he was stuck in another dimension with no idea of how to go home. He could always reset the time-turner and try anyway but who knows what dimension he would end up in. He could very well end up in a world with Voldemort as Minister of Magic. In comparison this world really wasn't all that bad. If a way to go back home became available to him then of course he would take it. But as things stood he was stranded. So the question was what to do while he was here?

He'd had three original goals in travelling to the past – or what he had assumed to be the past. Firstly, save his parents from Voldemort by warning them of Pettigrew. He had arrived too late to prevent that, even in this dimension. Second, save Sirius from Azkaban. But Sirius was long dead here, or as good as dead. Thirdly and lastly, save the younger Harry Potter from a life with the Durleys. He'd already partially failed there. This dimension's Harry Potter had already spent seven years in that hell. Additionally his plan to get him out had all revolved around Sirius being freed and able to take custody.

He pondered that for a time wondering how else he could get Harry out of the Dursleys apart from the obvious but undoubtedly unwise path of kidnapping. No ideas came immediately to mind so he instead decided to turn his mind to himself. He needed to figure out what false identity he would take to avoid detection.

Originally his purpose for doing this was to avoid the Ministry noticing him until time looped back and he could retake his place in the timeline. Of course he now knew that wasn't possible, but detection was still an issue. He imagined that the Ministry would be even more interested in a dimensional traveller than a time traveller, and he had no intentions of becoming a lab rat.

The most obvious choice of disguise would be as a distant Potter relative. He knew he looked far too much like his father to be anything but a relation. A Glamour could cover the likeness but long term use of the charm really wasn't a practical idea. Also there was the fact that powerful wizards – such as Dumbledore – were know to be able to see through such magics.

The problem with simply being a Potter relative was that if this dimension was anything like his own in this regard, then all of the Potters where dead. But that didn't mean that he couldn't be from an obscure and distant branch.

"Actually," he murmured quietly to himself, "I should probably check that out. There are already a few obvious differences in this world. Who's to say that there aren't a few Potters still left here?"

Either way he knew what needed to be done. Research. With a quiet groan he removed his glasses and massaged his temples. Research really was more Hermione's thing; all of this reading was giving him a headache. Nevertheless, it really did need to be done, so he replaced his glasses and wandered around searching for any books on genealogy.

As it turned out the genealogy section was easily found as it was one of the largest in the library. He really shouldn't have been surprised. With how obsessive pure-bloods were over bloodlines it only made sense that the wizarding world would keep meticulous records of such things.

The texts were conveniently arranged – alphabetically by family name – so the Potter books were easy enough to find. Selecting the largest book, thinking it would be the most thorough, he lugged it back to his desk. It had obviously been unread for some time as it let out a cloud of dust as it thudded loudly onto the table. Harry broke into a sneezing fit and by the time he regained control of his nose more than a few people were giving him severe glares and scathing looks. Cringing he sat down and carefully opened the ancient book to the first pages.

He found himself quite excited about this whole thing, as his looked over the pages of his ancestors. He'd never considered it before but he really knew nothing about his family past his mother and father, and was quite anxious to learn of his other relatives. Even if they all turned out to be dead it would still be quite interesting to find out about them.

The book seemed to have been added to over time and so the first, yellowed pages seemed to be the first written records of the family. Harry had known that the Potters were a well known family but was quite surprised to see just how far back his bloodline dated.

Flipping through the book until he reached the final pages he was also happily surprised to find that although the main line remained 'pure-blooded' until his father married his mother, the family did not seem to discriminate based on bloodline. In fact it seemed quite common for the other branches of the Potter family to marry both half-bloods and muggle-born. There were even a few rare muggles amongst the lot.

As he had expected, the Potter line had died out in this world also. There were a few relatives that still lived but they had branched from the family quite far back and none carried the Potter name any longer. Scanning some of the more recent branches, hoping to find a suitable identity, a certain detail caught his eye. He took another look at the family tree.

_**A/N**: For image of family tree go to http://i174(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/w107/Nia(underscore)River/PotterFamilyTree(dot)jpg_

Adam Jacob Potter. How had he never known that his father had a brother; that he had an uncle? But then maybe that was just another difference between his dimension and this one; he may never know. He looked at the question mark in the place of date of death, wondering what it meant. Flipping over a few pages he found the biography written about his mystery uncle.

'…_disappeared in 1967 at age seventeen, shortly after completing his education at Hogwarts. Theories of his fate vary from death at the hands of goblin rebels, to permanent transfiguration into a toad, to running off to marry a muggle…_

…_most popularly believed that Adam Potter was escaping an arranged marriage. It was well known that the Potter heir was unhappy with his marriage contract. He was quite public about distaste for his fiancé…_

…_that shortly after his disappearance his parents Jacob and Charlotte Potter dissolved the contract placed upon his younger brother James Potter. It is generally believed that they regretted the loss of their eldest and feared their remaining son would follow in his footsteps…_

…_ritual was developed in early 1974. Jacob Potter performed the ritual which confirmed that Adam Potter was deceased. When and how he died is unknown except that it was preceding the year 1974…'_

Harry found the whole affair quite fascinating and supposed it meant that Adam Potter must have existed in his reality. After all if he hadn't then his father would have remained contracted to marry some witch other than his mother. And thusly he would never have been born. Unless that is, his father's contract never existed in his dimension in the first place. Having thoroughly confused himself he decided it didn't really matter – even if his was rather curious about it all.

Anyway, there were more important things to consider. Like the fact that this Adam Potter was the perfect cover for his identity. The man had disappeared from contact for a long enough time that he could realistically have had a child. Not only that but the photograph in the book showed him to be strikingly similar to James Potter and in turn to Harry – the main difference between the three was their eye colour. Harry's being emerald green, James's having been hazel, and Adam's were a pale blue.

Now for the rest of his story. Of all the theories of what happened to Adam after he disappeared, Harry planned to capitalise on the last; that he ran off and married a muggle. With this as a starting point Harry dug a quill and some parchment from his trunk and began weaving a tale of what became of Adam Potter. This is what he came up with…

_Adam __Jacob Potter disappeared to escape his unwanted marriage contract. He fled to the muggle world where he met a muggle by the name of Elise Abigail Williams. They two were magically bonded in March of the year 1971._

Harry had had to stop to do some research on marriage in the magical world for this detail. A magical bonding, he discovered, was described as an old but legitimate form of magically binding marriage. It would also serve to explain the lack of records in either the muggle or magical worlds.

_Soon after __their marriage they had a son._

This would be Harry's cover. Since Harry had just turned sixteen it made the most sense to work back sixteen years from the date of his arrival for the boy's birth date.

_The baby __was born on January 23, 1972 and named Evan Adam Potter._

Adam after the baby's father, and Evan as Harry's personal tribute to his true mother.

_Adam __was planning to get into contact with his family shortly after Evan's birth. However he was mugged and murdered on his way to the Leaky Cauldron._

Harry wasn't sure how close Adam had been to his family before disappearing but figured he would probably have wanted them to know about their grandchild. This seemed an ideal way for him to have died before Charlotte and Jacob Potter performed the ritual and found out he was deceased. It also had a fitting tinge of the irony so often found in the wizarding world. Overall Harry was happy with his 'father' Adam's fate. Now for his 'mother'.

Firstly, she would also need to be dead so he wouldn't have to worry about loose ends. But she can't have died at the same time as her husband. Harry needed to be able to say she had told him something of his family and the wizarding world, so that he could realistically have found his way to it. After considering this for a moment he continued writing.

_When Evan was __four Elise became involved with a man named Jeremy. He seemed nice enough at first until Evan used obvious accidental magic. He was then revealed to have a violent phobia of anything 'unnatural' and became abusive._

This was a story Harry found believable, having grown up with the Dursleys.

_Elise __died of complications after Jeremy pushed her down a flight of stairs._

Harry at first wanted to make the death quite recent, explaining his current lack of guardian. On second thought though, he realised he would need a way to explain how his knowledge of magic and the magical world was more extensive than his muggle mother's explanations could account for.

_Evan __was only six at the time of Elise's death and Jeremy fled, leaving him to be placed in an orphanage._

_A man who often passed by the orphanage…_

A man Harry decided would be called Mr. Connor,

…_was a squib. He saw Evan doing accidental magic one day and realised what he was. He decided to quietly and unofficially 'adopt' Evan and began teaching him all he knew of magic._

Mr. Connor he decided would be based on Sirius and what he had imagined life with his godfather would have been like. Padfoot had had such a disregard for the rules that he could see him simply taking a magical child from an orphanage to raise. It was an impulsive and Sirius-ish thing to do.

Leaning back and stretching his cramped hand he reread over everything so far. What next? The most obvious was why he hadn't gone to the American wizarding school, Salem Academy

_When __he was 11 and his letter from Salem arrived he decided to reject the position in favour of continuing study with Mr. Connor._

He recalled one of Hermione's many lectures in which she had pointed out the lack of underage magic laws in America and some other countries. So he went back to the beginning of his parchment and changed it too say Adam fled to the American muggle world and not the British one; it explained how he could have gained practical experience in magic outside of a magical school.

_Unfortunately Mr. Connor recently passed away and Evan decided to __search out his family only to find them mostly dead._

And that rounded the whole story out, explaining his presence in the UK. He then finally put his quill down and sighed in satisfaction. It was the perfect cover story. Now he just needed to hope that he could pull it off.

..ooOOoo.

_**Please Review**_


	6. Money Problems

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: __Response to reviews for those who are interested:_

_Cocoa Girl: __Brilliant guess about the line of inheritance. __As for the custody issue, how he saves the younger Harry will be covered in the next chapter. I think it should clear everything up._

_Hello.I'mMarySue: __Thanks for the review, glad you're liking it. __As for the accent thing, I considered that too. The conclusion I came to is that since Mr Connor is meant to be a version of Sirius you can assume he is British. Children are often inclined to take on the accent of their parents/guardians rather than the rest of the community. Weak explanation I know, but it was the best I could come up with._

_Every one else: __Thanks everyone for reviewing. It's great to get some positive feedback!_

**Chapter 6 – Money Problems **

_A/N: __To avoid confusion, Harry will from now on be referred to as Evan whilst his younger self will be called Harry._

**– **_Sat, 6/2/1988_ **–**

After replacing the books Harry – or Evan as he now chose to refer to himself - flooed back to the Leaky Cauldron. At first he thought to wander through Diagon Alley but was surprised to find it almost deserted. He had not realised that he had spent so long at the library until he saw that night had already fallen outside.

He spotted Hedwig on the roof of the Apothecary across the way. As she swooped down and alighted on his shoulder to greet him he marvelled not the first time at her intelligence and how she had known he would turn up here. Deciding it would be best to simply rent a room for the night he let his owl know. She gave him an affectionate nip and flew off, obviously still wanting to fly about, and he made his way back to the small pub and signalled to Tom at the counter.

"Good evening sir. The name's Tom. What can I do for you?" the old barkeep asked.

"Hi, I was wondering if I could rent a room," Evan explained.

"Of course," the man said, pulling out a book and a quill, "Just the one night then?"

"Um, just the one night I think."

"Then that'll be five galleons and ten sickles. If you decide to extend your stay just let me know."

As he dug into his money pouch he was worried to find that gold was running low and he almost hit himself. He couldn't believe that in all of his planning he had forgotten something so obvious. How was he supposed to survive in this world without money?

"…I said, are you alright there sir?" he looked up realising Tom had been calling him, "Not have enough money for a room then?"

"What? Oh, no. I mean, no that's not a problem," he dug the required currency out of his pouch and handed it over, "Sorry, I was just off in my own little world for a minute there."

"Not a problem young master," he accepted the money and turned his book toward Evan, handing him the quill, "If you'll just sign into the register, I'll show you to your room."

Putting the quill to the book he signed his name, only just remembering to write Evan Potter rather than Harry Potter. He handed the book bank to Tom who glanced at it and gave a satisfied nod, before signalling to his guest to follow him up the stairs at the back of the pub.

"No luggage then Mr. Potter?" Tom asked, having read his name on the register.

"No sir, it's all shrunken," he replied and the man nodded before stopping at a door with a rusted number fifteen nailed to the front.

"And this'll be your room, number fifteen," he unlocked the door and led the younger man in, "This is of course your bed, and there's a small bathroom through the far door. Also the fire's not connected to the floo but feel free to use the one downstairs in the pub. I hope everything is satisfactory Mr. Potter."

"This'll be fine," he assured him.

"All right then, here's your key. Just hand it in at the counter when you check yourself out," Evan took the offered key, "You have yourself a good night then."

"Thank you, and goodnight to you too sir."

As soon as the door closed he flopped backwards onto his bed and gave a groan.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," he punched at the downy quilt on the bed, "How could I be so stupid?"

What had he been thinking? Well clearly he hadn't been. In fact he'd been so excited making his trip that he had even almost forgotten Hedwig. Hermione had warned him a time or two that he could be far too impulsive – in between lecturing Ron on his lack of table manners and hotheadedness that is. She might nag at times but he thought perhaps she'd hit the nail on the head in this instance. He should have given more thought to this whole thing before just jumping in the deep end. There was a whole vault full of gold back home, sitting there unused. Meanwhile here he was almost broke with no way to replenish his funds. Sitting up, he ran his hand through his hair, messing it up even further in his frustration.

"What to do, what to do," he mumbled as his mind raced trying to find a solution.

Suddenly an idea came to him – Gringotts. All the articles that he had found on his pseudo-father indicated that he had disappeared quite suddenly. Perhaps he had even left some money behind at Gringotts that Evan could lay claim to. Decision made he gave a relieved sigh and flopped back onto the bed. He would go to the bank first thing tomorrow morning.

..ooOOoo..

**– **_Sun, 7/2/1988_ **–**

The next day found Evan up bright and early, though not of his own accord. In all his worrying the night before, he had forgotten to open the window for Hedwig, and so he was awoken the next morning to her angrily pecking at the glass pane. He had to spend a good half hour trying to placate his feathered companion and apologising most profusely before he was able to slip downstairs and order a quick breakfast from Tom.

All in all it was an hour after his waking before he found himself ascending the steps to Gringotts, the wizarding bank. Nodding politely to the goblins guarding the door, who merely sneered back at him, he made his way into the resplendent hall and over to the nearest available teller. The teller raised an annoyed eyebrow at him and tapped his fingers on the desk in an impatient manner, leaving Evan to wonder – not for the first time – if goblins had never heard of the concept of good customer service. Shaking the though aside, he got down to business.

"Hi my name's Evan Potter and I was wondering if my dad left any money here that I'd be entitled to," he blurted out, trying rather unsuccessfully to lie convincingly.

With a subtle twitch the goblin's eyebrow now seemed to indicate disbelief. Harry had but a moment to reluctantly admire the rather unique ability to convey so much expression with that singular body part before the creature replied.

"Indeed," he sounded rather unconvinced, "And your father's name?"

"Adam."

"Adam what?" clearly wanting more.

"Oh, sorry. His full name was Adam Jacob Potter."

"And am I to assume your father is deceased then?"

"Yes."

"And your mother?"

"Why do you need to know about my mother?" he asked in confusion and the goblin sighed in annoyance.

"I doubt you are of age. So, if she still lives and was married to your father, then inheritace rights decree that any assets go first to her," he bit out impatiently.

"Oh, well she's dead too," he confirmed and could have sworn he heard the teller murmur 'convenient' under his breath.

"Very well. If you'll follow me I will escort you to the inheritance office."

The stout creature pulled a placard from beneath the counter reading 'Teller Closed'. Placing it on the desk he clambered down from his stool and indicated for Evan to follow him. They made their way through a number of corridors taking many twists and tuns. Just when he was beginning to suspect his guide might be lost, they stopped before a door with a brass plaque reading 'Inheritance and Wills Office'. A quick knock on the door and Harry was being ushered inside. An elderly goblin sat behind a large oak desk inside, and he looked up curiously as they entered.

"Jarnack, what is it?" he asked, getting right to the point.

"Elder Rockwell, this child _claims_," here Evan frowned at the obvious skepticism in his voice, "To be the heir of Adam Jacob Potter."

"Indeed," the goblin, Rockwell, seemed surprised and intrigued, "Well he does have the look about him; it's not a glamour either. I assume you have proof to back up your claim."

"Well, er, not exactly," he faltered and the other two exchanged significant glances.

"If I may Elder," Jarnack interjected, "Perhaps we should take his word for it and allow him to claim the ring."

Evan wasn't sure what this ring was but by the disturbing grins that spread across the two goblins' faces, he wasn't sure he wanted to know. A shiver running down his spine he stared from one smiling mouth of pointed teeth to another before hesitantly speaking.

"What's this ring for?"

"The family ring for the Potter Family of course."

The elder goblin seemed perturbed at his question whilst the younger's seemed to radiate disbelief.

"Come now," the younger goblin, Jarnack sneered, "You _are_ here to attempt to claim the Potter fortune aren't you?"

"You are certainly not the first I assure you," Elder Rockwell added sternly, "Many have tried to lay claim to the Potter fortune and none have yet succeeded. Though I must say, no one so young has yet tried. Young Harry Potter still remains the rightful heir. Are you truly certain enough of your claim that you wish to try the ring?"

All this he took in, becoming more and more bewildered. Again with the ring reference – he had no idea what ring they were talking about. But more importantly, what did they man by 'the Potter fortune'.

"I'm sorry but I'm fairly new to the wizarding world and I honestly have no idea what you're talking about," he explained, "What exactly is this ring you keep talking about? And come to think of it, just what do you mean by 'fortune'; just how much money did my father leave here?"

The genuine confusion must have shown clearly on his face as the goblins' expressions softened – well a goblin's expression couldn't ever really be construed as soft, so perhaps 'less openly hostile' was a better description. Either way his terribly acting skills from earlier appeared to be paying off now, since the two seemed inclined to take his confusion and lack of knowledge at face value.

"Are you saying you are not after the Potter fortune then?" the elder asked for clarification.

"No. I just came to see if Adam Potter left any money behind that I might be entitled to."

The two exchanged a glance then scurried over to a corner to quietly confer for a moment, and Evan held his breath, wondering anxiously what they would decide. If they saw through his lies he didn't know what he'd do. He would be stranded in this world penniless. Add to that that he was too young yet to hold a full time job and it left him with few options.

Finally the two in the corner seemed to reach a decision as Elder Rockwick resumed his seat and looked to his younger counterpart. Jarnack cleared his throat in an imperious manner before beginning to speak.

"Mr. Potter if I may be so bold, it seems your knowledge of the Wizarding world is poorly lacking," he spoke in a formal, verbose manner, quite different from the abrupt tone that he'd used thus far, "Perhaps I can clear a few things up for you."

"Thank you Jarnack. I'd really appreciate that," he said, eager to understand the situation.

"The Potter Family is an old and wealthy one. Apart from a very healthy amount of accumulated gold they also own a number of other assets including, but not limited to, a great many properties, as well as stocks in both wizarding and muggle businesses."

Harry listened in disbelief as the goblin continued, explaining the extent of the Potter fortune. Was the same true in his dimension? He knew from his prior research that the family dated back quite a ways. He had also heard it mentioned on occasion in his own world that the Potters were an affluent family. But he had always assumed that they referred to the piles of gold in his personal vault. Of course now that he properly considered it, it had been a ridiculous notion. When the wizarding world said wealthy they were meaning along the line of Malfoy-wealthy. As in 'I can buy a whole school team international level racing brooms and not even dent my bank balance' sort of wealthy. That meant a whole lot more gold than what was in his comparatively pitiful little vault. But why had he never been made aware of this? He listened as Jarnack continued to explain things to him.

"If, as you claim, you are the heir to Adam Jacob Potter – the eldest son of Charlotte and Jacob Potter – it would then make you the heir to the aforementioned fortune. You should note though that although you may be the heir to the fortune, the law dictates that one may only access the funds in a trust vault until such time as they are of age. Since I very much doubt you are of age and no trust has been set aside for you, you cannot access the vaults at this time," he explained.

"But how old is of age?" he asked desperately, feeling his best hope slipping through his fingers.

"In the Wizarding world this happens when you turn seventeen," Evan's heart sunk, "However, as the direct heir to the House of Potter you would be entitled to claim Headship of the family after the age of fifteen. Also, since the Head of a family cannot possibly fulfil their responsibilities as a minor, they are automatically considered of age despite not yet reaching seventeen."

As Harry listened to the goblin explain what most wizards and witches no doubt took as common knowledge, he cursed his ignorance of the Wizarding world in general. He could have been considered of age for almost a year now back home. As an adult he would not have had to return to the Dursleys. He let out a sigh then, resigned to the fact that what was done was done, before a certain fact sunk in.

"Wait if it would make me considered of age, then-"

"Yes," he cut in, "The Potter funds would be available to you."

"Jarnack," he asked excitedly, "How exactly does one go about claiming Headship?"

"That can be easily handled in our inheritance office. It is a rather simple and quick process."

"Wait, but isn't _this_ the inheritance office?"

"Why yes, I do believe it is," he goblin replied with a straight face, "How, convenient."

Evan stared back for a moment before snorting in amusement at the goblin's sarcastic sense of humour and received a smirk in return. A cleared throat gained their attention and they both turned back to Rockwick who had been forgotten during their exchange. Jarnack immediately straightened up in front of his elder and Evan too gave him his attention.

"So you wish to claim the headship?" he asked.

Just as he was about to nod in confirmation, another idea occurred to him. If he was considered of age, what exactly would that entitle him to? He knew it would mean he would no longer be answerable to the underage laws and that it would get him access to the Potter money. At the moment however he could care less about those things as he had realised another more important point. As a legal adult he should be allowed to take custody of a minor, especially if said minor was a close blood relative – more specifically could he adopt his 'cousin' himself? With some hope again of rescuing the boy from the Dursleys he refocussed on his goal and decided that he would have to rescue Harry personally. Looking back towards the goblins, who were obviously growing impatient with his internal thoughts, he nodded firmly.

"Yes," he said determinedly, "I want to claim the Headship"

"Very well."

Rockwell nodded to his younger counterpart who hurried through another door in the office that he'd not noticed before. He soon returned and handed a small box to his elder before standing to attention at the side once again.

The old goblin crooked a gnarled finger at Evan, summoning him to the desk and he obeyed. He faced the box towards Evan and slid it across the distance between them before leaning back and watching on expectantly. Now close enough to see the box more properly he studied it in detail.

It really was quite beautiful. Made of a wood stained a dark, midnight blue, it was inlaid with decorative patterns and designs in what seemed to be real gold. In the centre of the top of the box, the design seemed to form a crest of some sort. The crest formed a shield divided into three parts. In the left third was a sparking wand, in the right an urn, and in the larger, top section was a fish-tailed horse – if he was remembering his Creatures classes correctly, it was called a hippocampus. To finish the whole thing off, the wood was polished to a high gloss, reflecting the light of the candles about the room.

"Well, open it already," the abrupt voice of Jarnack snapped.

Looking up at the impatient goblin he smirked before pretending to examine the box in more detail, taking as much time as possible to open it. The younger goblin made a rather rude sound to show his annoyance and the elder wheezed in amusement at the two of them.

Deciding that he'd had enough fun, Evan finally opened the box. Contained within, sitting on a bed of dark blue velvet, was what he assumed to be the Potter ring. It was cast of gold with a large, flat, sapphire stone in the centre into which was engraved the same crest as on the lid.

"I just put it on then?" he asked, glancing up, "Does it matter which finger?"

"Just put it on whichever finger you prefer," the elder goblin confirmed.

So he removed the ring from the velvet-lined interior and placed the empty box on the table. He frowned curiously as his fingers made contact and he felt a tingle of magic within the golden band. Deciding it must have something to do with the claiming of the Headship he shrugged aside any unease he felt, remembering that this was his best chance of helping the young Harry Potter. The second he slipped the ring onto his right middle finger he realised he should have given the action a bit more thought.

A bright light flared in the room. He tried to shield his eyes but it was useless as the light seemed to becoming from within himself. The band became progressively hotter and hotter, burning his finger. Then the heat felt as though it was moving. Two paths of fire journeyed under his skin, travelling up his hand and arm, then across his shoulder. From there one burned downwards and towards his heart and the other into his skull. He wondered briefly how he was still conscious, until he was distracted by even greater pain exploding in his head and chest. It felt as though a presence – an infinitely powerful presence – was rummaging through his mind, riffling through memories in a seemingly random but brutally determined manner, whilst at the same time his heart burned hotter and hotter. Then, just as he was sure he could stand no more – it stopped.

It simply stopped.

He lay for a moment panting on the floor with his head lolling to the side, not knowing where he was and without the strength to try and remember. At a shuffling sound his eyes opened and he found himself staring at a small pair of shiny shoes with long, pointed toes. Following the shoes up past a pair of short, pressed, black trousers and a small, black waistcoat he found himself looking into a vaguely familiar, wrinkled face. It took a moment before a name came to him.

"Jarnack!" he exclaimed as everything coming back to him, then winced and put a hand to his throbbing head, "What in Merlin's name happened?"

"You claimed the Potter family ring," he stated obviously to Evan's annoyance.

"Not to worry, everything went exactly as it should," said another voice and he turned to see Rockwell looking down at him from his other side, "The ring was merely testing your claim in both blood and intentions."

He vaguely heard a whispered conversation and then retreating footsteps but paid it no heed. He was recalling vividly the two paths of fire, one which lead to his heart – no doubt to test for Potter blood – and the other to his head, where his memories were riffled through – a test of intentions. He would have assumed the ring had searched his mind to ensure he was the true Potter heir. But since he was not, and had passed nonetheless, that could not be the case.

As he dragged himself – groaning – back up and into his chair, he contemplated just what intentions could mean. Perhaps it was to test whether his reasons for claiming the ring were just. That made the most sense. Normally the rightful heir would be the just heir but he supposed in his case, he was claiming the ring mostly in order to protect the one who it truly belonged to. Perhaps that was just intention enough. Then another though occurred to him. He raised his pounding head from where it was resting in his palms and looked at the elder goblin, noticing that Jarnack had disappeared.

"Wait, Rockwell. What would have happened if I failed the test?"

A sound at the doorway showed that the younger goblin had returned in time to hear the question. He shifted uncomfortably as he was presented, for the second time that day, with a pair of vicious, sharp-toothed grins.

"Well," the elder explained as the younger returned to his other side, "It varies from case to case but needless to say, the results are – _unpleasant_."

He paled, "Unpleasant?"

"Unpleasant," Jarnack reiterated, nodding and grinning in agreement.

"Oh, right," he said faintly before another bolt of pain struck, causing him to groan.

"Drink this. It's a pain reliever."

He looked up and noticed the vial of blue potion in the younger goblin's outstretched hand. He assumed that it was the reason for the earlier whispered conversation and Jarnack's momentary absence. Eagerly he accepted the vial, uncorking it and downing the foul smelling brew as quickly as possible. Almost instantly a tingling spread over him from head to toe, taking the pain away and leaving ease in its wake. He sighed and smiled gratefully at them both.

"Thanks, that's much better."

Seeing that he was indeed recovered, Rockwell sat back down behind his desk and his younger counterpart retook his post off to the side.

"Now, usually a mere teller goblin would not be present for a ring claiming," the elder stated and Evan noticed the younger shift nervously, "However, Jarnack was filling in today and is also – coincidentally – the current manager of the Potter Fortune."

He looked over at the goblin in question in surprise. Jarnack however seemed to look even more nervous than before whilst Rockwell looked expectant. Unsure of what to say he asked what was wrong.

"Well, although he was appointed to the position by your uncle – James Potter – you are welcome to change to another," the elderly goblin explained.

He shook his head, "No, that's fine as it is."

At his statement Jarnack let out a sigh and relaxed. He realized abruptly that the young goblin had been nervous that he would be dismissed from his position. He laughed, drawing the attention of the other two.

"You may not be the friendliest of people," he told the goblin, "But if my uncle chose you for the position then you must know what you're doing."

Jarnack at first seemed as though he was going to make a retort but then he stopped suddenly and smiled slyly, raising a daring eyebrow. This set Evan understandably on edge and he feared what his account manager was about to say. And not without reason it seemed.

"I know quite well what I'm doing, Mr _Harry_ Potter."

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	7. Legalities

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Sorry anyone who was thinking little Harry would show up last chapter. He won't be here either but I guarantee he'll be in the next one._

_A/N(Jun16): Gah! Another date mistake. Was Sat, 24/1/1998. Have changed it to Sun, 7/2/1988 as it should be._

_A/N(Jun18): Nothing important, just finally gave Pettigrew a middle name. Hadn't realised I'd forgotten that._

**Chapter 7 – Legalities **

– _Sun, 7/2/1988_ –

"I know quite well what I'm doing, Mr _Harry_ Potter."

Evan was left gaping and the two shared an amused glance. He tried to deny it.

"What- but- I- I'm not-"

"You're a terrible liar," the goblin told him shortly, with a derisive snort.

He looked from one knowing face to the other before sighing in defeat.

"How did you know?"

"Well, no matter what your claim, magically your name is Harry Potter and showed up as such on our records when you entered the bank," Rockwell explained, "And then there is the matter of your scar."

He slapped his hand over his forehead twice – firstly to feel said scar, and secondly because he was an idiot. An unmitigated idiot. The fact that he looked astonishing like this dimension's Harry Potter could be explained away as saying he looked like his 'father'. As for his eye colour, he could claim his mother also had startlingly green eyes. But the scar. There was no way to explain away the scar. Merlin, he was lucky no one else had seemed to have noticed. He covered his face in his hands and groaned, slumping down into his chair.

"An explanation, perhaps," Jarnack demanded.

"Indeed, I am most curious as to how you appear several years older than you should? I can tell it is no glamour."

He searched for an explanation – or at least one that wouldn't have his thrown in Azkaban or turned into a scientific study. Clearly sensing his agitation, the elder goblin made to reassure him.

"You should note that we of Gringotts have the highest respect for the privacy of our customers and any business conducted within these walls is kept strictly confidential."

"As the manager of your accounts I have even taken a magical oath to that effect," added the other.

"Would you feel better if I also took an oath?"

"I- no," he said, coming to a decision, "No so long as you give me your word not to spread this around."

"I do," Rockwell said, nodding solemnly.

He knew that to achieve his goals he would need allies. And since goblins were known to be clever creatures that were in the habit of being discreet, he supposed these two were as good as any.

"Well," he gave a sigh, "I guess the first thing you need to know is that I'm not from around here…"

It was some time later and his story was winding down to its end. The other two had remained mostly silent as he explained how his life had been up until that point, only asking questions when he had forgotten pertinent details. They both seemed fascinated by the story, and Jarnack had forgotten to sneer at him for quite some time now.

"… and that brings me to now," he finished.

He sat quietly as the other two digested the information they had just been given. After a long moment they seemed to come back to themselves, the younger even remembering to paste his sneer back on.

"Well, quite the adventurous life you lead, Mr Potter," Rockwell broke the silence.

"Tell me about it," he lamented.

"Self pity does not become you," Jarnack told him, ignoring the glare aimed his way.

"Now, now children," the elderly goblin chastened and both settled down, "Very well Mr Potter, I think we can help you."

He blinked, "Help me?"

"That is what he said."

"Yes, thank you Jarnack. As I said we can help you. With the scar that is."

Evan looked at him in confusion before a possibility occurred to him. Then he gaped in disbelief.

"You mean, you can get rid of it," he asked hopefully.

"No, I am afraid not," he sagged in disappointment, before rising a little again at the next remark, "We can however, move it to a less obvious position."

"Wait, but if it can be moved, why did no one ever tell me before now?" he asked angrily.

"I cannot say as I do not know the extent of wizard magic. Perhaps they were not capable of such a thing."

"But you are?"

"Of course we can," Jarnack sniffed.

"Well," he said, ignoring the comment, "That'd be brilliant."

The two goblins shared a look and the younger nodded.

"Jarnack will perform the magic," Rockwell told him, leaning back in his chair to watch.

Jarnack approached him and waited a moment before making impatient gestures.

"Well, get up."

Following the directions, Evan pushed his chair off to the side and stood in the centre of the room, before the younger goblin.

"Where do you want the scar moved to?" he asked crisply.

"Umm, maybe my back?" he said unsurely.

"Don't be ridiculous, it would be seen whenever you go swimming."

"Perhaps on your upper thigh," Rockwell suggested, from behind his desk, "Very little chance of it being seen there."

Finding this idea agreeable he immediately nodded.

"Very well, sir. Now stand perfectly still," Jarnack ordered him.

And with that the goblin began reciting a spell, waving his hand in an intricate manner as he circled around Evan. He assumed the language was gobbledegook, the goblin tongue. It was harsh sounding with lots of short sharp sounds and many low guttural ones. But, as Jarnack continued, the spell caught a rhythm and began to take on a mystical chanting quality that was at the same time both harsh and quite beautiful.

As the chant built up, so too did a feeling of magic in the room. Evan was distracted from the chanting momentarily as he realised the patterns that Jarnack had been drawing in the air were beginning to be visible lines of light and magic. Those patterns drifted through the air towards him, sinking into his skin.

The chanting suddenly rose in both tone and volume, as though coming to a crescendo. The goblin suddenly stopped and jabbed a finger first at his forehead and then at his upper right thigh before yelling one last sentence and there was a flash, as light flooded the room.

Colour slowly filtered back to him and he stared around the room, blinking the black spots away from his eyes. He looked down to see the other two doing the same thing, although Jarnack was also smiling smugly at him.

"What is it?" he asked curiously and received an eye roll in response.

"Your scar, Mr Potter."

His hand flew to his forehead where, for as long as he could remember, there had lain a lightning bolt shaped scar. But now, it was completely smooth. A grin spreading across his face, he lowered his hand to his right thigh and ran it across it. He could feel faintly through the material a scar that had not been there before. And lightning bolt shaped scar. He whooped in delight.

"Yes, yes. It worked," drawled the younger goblin whilst the elder merely smiled.

"Now, perhaps we should change your eyes also," Rockwell started, but stopped at the panicked look it elicited from their customer.

"No! I mean, no sir. It's just, it's the only thing I inherited from my mother. I'd really rather leave them as they are."

Rockwell nodded understandingly but Jarnack seemed unimpressed by the sentiment.

"Well, you should at least consider growing your hair out," he suggested, "Something else to set you apart from your counterpart."

Evan immediately nodded, liking the idea. Perhaps he could grow it out like Sirius's had been. Then he would look something like both of his parents and his godfather as well. Rockwell interrupted his thoughts.

"Now we only need to change your name."

"But I already did."

"Magically."

"Oh. How do I do that?"

"The wand movements are as follows," he waved a gnarled finger in a pattern, pointing at himself, "And the incantation is 'your name', _renomen_, 'your new name'."

The demonstration was repeated once more before Evan was sure he knew it. Taking a breath he pointed his wand at himself and performed the spell.

"Harry James Potter, _renomen_, Evan Adam Potter."

There was a light glow which enveloped his form before fading. He looked up to Rockwell to see him nodding.

"Well done."

"You know, I can't believe that was so easy."

"Well technically," Jarnack explained, "The spell isn't common knowledge. It is usually kept to a few Ministry personnel."

"Oh, so was it illegal?" he asked worriedly.

"No not illegal," Rockwell assured him but with a devious smirk, "They've no need to make it illegal when no one knows about it."

He snorted, "Somehow I'm not surprised that you do though."

The old goblin seemed to take that as a compliment.

"Well, if everything is in order, you can finish your business in the Potter office. I'm afraid legalities, for the most part, are not my area of expertise."

"Legalities?"

"For you to take custody of your younger counterpart."

He spluttered a moment in surprise as both goblins smirked at him. He briefly considered trying to deny the claim before casting that course of action aside as pointless. He really was a terrible liar. He sighed in defeat in looked from one to the other.

"How did you know?" he asked.

"It was fairly obvious," Jarnack told him.

"You did give us a fair insight into both your muggle relatives and your character," Rockwell expanded, "Knowing that I very much doubt you would do anything else."

He really had nothing to say to that so Rockwell dismissed them both again, wishing him luck. They both nodded and Evan waved goodbye. As they reached the door however, he turned around suddenly.

"Oh, there was one thing I wanted to ask."

"Yes?"

"Will the Ministry know not to count me as an underage wizard?"

"The Ministry tracks underage magic through tracking charms placed on the children's wands at purchasing. When they reach their majority their head of house or a certified Ministry wizard generally removes the charm for them."

"Damn. How will I arrange that without causing suspicion?"

"You will find, that when you claimed the ring any and all charms where removed from your person, including your clothing and wand."

"Oh, thanks."

And with that the two left. For the second time he was led down a maze of corridors. This time though, he was sure his guide knew where he was going. Eventually they came to a long corridor with a number of doors on either side. He glanced at a few as they passed. Bones, Prewett, Nott, Malfoy, Crouch, and a number of other well known pure-blood family names. At a cleared throat behind him he turned to find Jarnack stopped at a door reading 'Potter' a few paces back. He smiled sheepishly and the creature rolled his eyes and opened the door, indicating he enter the room.

The office was similar to the previous one, although the furniture was perhaps a bit better quality and the carpet and other details a little more luxurious. Jarnack made himself at home behind the desk and Evan took a seat before it, waiting for the goblin to speak.

"Now," he said imperiously, "This is the office of the Potter family account manager."

"So your office then?" he interrupted and winced at the glare he got for doing so.

"Yes. Now as I was saying, I am oath bound to keep your business private. This office is also warded so that everything said in it is kept confidential unless you say otherwise. Only you would be able to repeat anything heard in here.

"You also need to be aware that if you need assistance in some matter, be it financial, legal or otherwise you can come to me and be assured of privacy. Gringotts does most anything they can to keep their important customers happy."

He was rather sceptical at that and it must have shown on his countenance as the little gobblin merely smirked.

"Doesn't mean I have to be polite whilst doing it," he assured him.

"Ah," that did make a lot more sense.

"So, how can I help you?"

"Er," he floundered for a moment before thinking of something, "Well, I suppose I'd like to know just what I inherited."

"Of course."

The goblin clambered down from his seat and ambled over to a filing cabinet against the wall behind him. From the depths of a drawer he withdrew a folder bearing the Potter crest and shut the drawer, returning to his chair.

"Now, this is your portfolio. As per their will, all extraneous vaults were closed and merged with the Potter family vault upon the death of Lily and James Potter. A small trust vault was also established for one Harry James Potter to see him through school. I assume you want to leave that open?"

"Yes, definitely," he immediately agreed.

"Very well. You also own a number of stocks in various businesses. Are you interested in knowing which businesses, Mr Potter?"

"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't even know what to do with them. You handle all that stuff, right?"

He nodded, "I do. Now, you also own a number of properties. Apart from the ancestral Potter Manor, there is the well known home in Godric's Hollow which is currently in ruins, and a small cottage in Hogsmeade. That is of course, excluding the business premises you own."

"Wow."

"Indeed. Now shall we move on to the Potter child? You wish to take custody of him I believe."

"Yes," he straightened up in his seat, "Yes I do."

"Well, we'll need to take a look at James and Lily Potter's wills," he told him as he replaced the portfolio in the filing cabinet and searched for something else, "If they specifically requested the Dursleys take custody you will have to take your case to the wizard courts."

"Would I win?" he asked worriedly.

"Most certainly. Wizards hold much stock in blood, especially in blood purity. A close magical relative would surely win over a muggle one. It is however irrelevant," he said, still searching the cabinet, "From what you told me your – or rather his – parents, would not have specified them as guardians. Most likely they indicated Mr Black should be granted custody and did not provide alternatives."

"Which is why Dumbledore was able to place us with the Dursleys."

"Exactly," Jarnack said before giving an annoyed huff, "Now where is that blasted- Aha!"

The goblin emerged from the cabinet, and victoriously placed a file folder on his desk, retaking his seat. Evan was about to ask what it was when he found his attention suddenly diverted. Annoyed, he looked back at it and found his attention was being forced away once more. He looked up at Jarnack to see him gazing sharply at the folder.

"Is it just me, or is that folder-"

"Charmed," Jarnack finished for him, "Notice-me-not to be precise."

"Why would anyone do that?"

"Well, if this world's Dumbledore is anything like yours, and given that this is the will of the Potters…"

He trailed of, the rest being obvious. Evan felt a sickening lurch in his stomach. No, surely not. But he had suspected something of the sort before, hadn't he? He found himself looking towards the opening of the folder with equal parts eagerness and dread.

"If you'll cast a _Finite_," Jarnack requested.

He focussed as much as he could on the folder, trying to ignore the urge to look away.

"_Finite Incantatem_."

He sighed in relief as the urge to look away passed and pocketed his wand. Jarnack nodded in satisfaction and opened the folder, leaning over the contents, almost sweeping the pages with his long nose.

"Hmm, a combined will, hmm, oh dear," the goblin was now frowning.

"What is it?" he asked, impatient to know.

"It is as we feared. Here, read."

Evan took the parchment held out to him, flattening it on the desk before him. Taking a bracing breath, he began to read.

_This is the last will and testament of __James Andrew Potter, and wife, Lily Marie Potter née Evans._

_Both of sound and non magically altered minds, we do hereby present this as our will, legally binding:_

_Should Lily Potter die first, the entirety of her estate shall be bequeathed to her husband, James Potter._

_Should James Potter die first, the entirety of his estate shall be bequeathed to his wife, Lily Potter._

_Should both James and Lily Potter be deceased upon the reading of this will, __all our vaults excepting our son Harry Potter's trust vault shall be merged with the Potter family vault and the following bequeaths shall be made:_

_To Sirius Orion Black, we grant the sum of __500 000 galleons and our property at Godric's Hollow._

_To Remus John Lupin, we grant the sum of 500 000 galleons and our cottage in Hogsmeade._

_To Frank Longbottom and Alice Natalie Longbottom née Smyth, we grant the sum of 500 000 galleons_

_To Peter Aaron Pettigrew, we grant the sum of 500 000 galleons._

_Should any of the aforementioned beneficiaries be deceased__ upon the reading of this will, their grants shall go to our son, Harry James Potter._

_To our son,__ Harry James Potter, we grant the remainder of our estate._

_If both Lily Potter and James Potter are deceased, guardianship of our son, Harry James Potter is as follows, in order of preference:_

_Sirius Black, good friend and godfather of Harry Potter._

_Alice Natalie Longbottom née Smyth and Frank Longbottom, good friends, and godmother and godmother's husband of Harry Potter._

_Remus John Lupin, good friend (Should laws change to allow)._

_Peter Aaron Pettigrew, good friend._

_If all previously specified guardians are incapable of taking custody, Harry Potter is to be placed with an agreeable, light-oriented, wizarding family. Under no circumstances is he to go to Vernon Dursley and Petunia Dursley née Evans._

_Signed at Godric's Hollow on October 26, 1981_

_Witnesses_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_Peter Aaron Pettigrew_

By the time he had finished reading, he was fuming. Cursing, he jumped to his feet and started kicking at the carpet. That not being nearly satisfying enough, he began kicking at his chair. A particularly harsh kick elicited a cracking sound and sent the chair skidding across the room, bringing him back to reality. He looked from the broken chair to Jarnack, who had watched the whole display with a blank face. Upon realising he now had his customer's attention, he raised a cool eyebrow.

"If you're quite finished with your little temper tantrum?"

That comment almost set him off again but he managed to keep reign of his temper, if barely.

"Yes, I'm done," he replied with a much dignity as was possible given the situation.

"And do you make it a habit of destroying things when you are angered?" the goblin asked sarcastically.

"No!" he shouted indignantly before remembering Dumbledore's office and flushing, "Well, not always. Don't look at me like that! The last time it was perfectly justified."

"I'm sure," Jarnack looked unconvinced.

He sighed defeatedly, and looked at the pile of wood in the corner. Drawing his wand he waved it in the chair's direction.

"_Reparo_."

He set the now whole chair back in place and resumed his seat. They sat in silence for a long moment before he finally spoke up.

"Sorry," he muttered

"Forgiven," the goblin said succinctly, "Now, back to the matter at hand. It seems to me that Dumbledore is in gross violation of a number of laws. Do you wish to press charges?"

His first reaction was to give an emphatic 'yes'. But then, he stopped to consider it and groaned as he came to his decision.

"No. As much as I want to I think I'd best not."

"And why is that?" Jarnack asked neutrally.

"Voldemort," he ignored the flinch the name elicited, "If this world is anything like mine then he'll be back sooner or later. As much as I hate Dumbledore right now he _is_ the only one the Dark Lord has ever feared. Having him at the school makes it safer for the children there. They wouldn't be nearly as safe if the old man was in Azkaban."

"A wise decision," he was pleasantly surprised by the compliment before the goblin continued, "Especially from you."

He sighed in resignation, deciding to take what small victories he could where his sarcastic account manager was concerned.

"This could work to our advantage anyway," the goblin stated

"How?"

"To get custody of young Harry, you need only have his current guardians sign over rights."

"How's that to do with Dumbledore?" he received a glare, "Right, sorry. No interrupting."

"As I was saying, the only way Dumbledore could challenge this was if you were either an unfit guardian or it went against the Potters' wishes. As for the first you are quite wealthy and I have explained the blood issue to you. And the second, well it would require a court case and the showing of the will of the Potters," Jarnack smirked evilly, "Thus incriminating himself."

Evan smirked back.

"So I just need to get the Dursleys to sign some papers and he's mine?"

"That is all."

"Great! Where can I get them from?"

"Usually at the Ministry in the Child Welfare Offices. However, we keep copies of most forms on hand here at Gringotts. One moment."

With that he pulled a small bell from a drawer in his desk and rang it twice. After a moment another goblin knocked on the door and entered, making his way over to Jarnack. The Potter goblin leaned down to have a whispered conversation with his fellow who nodded and hurried out of the office.

"Now, whilst Brand fetches those forms, is there anything else you need information on or assistance with?"

"Well, something did catch my attention when I read the will."

"Apart from the fact that it gave you the urge to break furniture."

Sigh, "Yes, apart from that. If the Potters left their estate to Harry, how can I now own the Potter vault?"

"Well, the Potter vault is hereditary and automatically goes to the eldest son in the family. The only reason James Potter inherited was because his older brother – your 'father' – was deceased. Since you are – for legal intents and purposes – the eldest son of the eldest son, it is your right to inherit the Potter estate, irregardless of James and Lily Potters' wishes. Also, since they had their personal vaults combined with the Potter family vault, they inadvertently left all their personal money and properties to you also."

"What about Harry's trust vault?"

"It is in fact an extension of the family vault and as such is yours also."

"Wait, so I've stolen this world's Harry Potter's inheritance."

"Yes," he stated simply.

"But that's not what I wanted," he said, feeling terrible about the whole thing.

"So don't waste all the money, give him access to the family vault when he comes of age, and will the entire estate to him," Jarnack said, as though the solution should be obvious and, as he thought about it, it was.

Satisfied with that idea, he nodded his approval. Just then there was a sharp rap on the door and the goblin – Brand – entered the office. He handed a scroll to Jarnack, had a brief whispered conversation with him, and exited just as promptly. As the door clicked shut, Jarnack extended the scroll towards him.

"The guardianship papers."

"Thanks," he said, taking them.

"All pertinent details have been filled in, they need only be signed. Once that is done, simply retie the ribbon and tap it thrice with your wand. It will automatically be filed at the Ministry. Also, from what we have gathered of Dumbledore he will likely know the moment you take young Harry from the Dursleys and most probably has a variety of tracking charms on the boy."

"What do I do then?" he frowned worriedly, "I don't know the spells to detect and cancel tracking charms."

"Well, I have just sent for-" there was a knock on the door, "Ah, just on time."

Brand entered the room once again. He handed a box to Jarnack who nodded in thanks and dismissed him. As the door closed this time, Evan leaned forward, curious about the box which looked somewhat familiar.

"What is it?" he asked and was handed the box.

He immediately knew why it was familiar. It was a near exact replica of the box which had contained the Potter ring he now wore on his right, middle finger. It was wood, stained a dark blue, highly polished. Like the box he had seen before, it was decorated and bore the Potter crest in inlaid gold. However, the crest was smaller and above it was shown a star.

He opened the box. As expected it held a ring in a blue velvet bed. The ring was made of gold like his, but unlike the one he wore, the top of the ring was wide and flat. Into the surface was engraved a small version of the family crest, like on the box. Instead of a star however, a small sapphire stone topped the crest.

"What is it?" he finally asked the goblin.

"It is the first heir's ring," he explained, "There are a number of rings for heirs. The number of stars crowning the crest indicates how close the bearer is to the headship. The bearer of this ring would be the next in line to the Potter fortune."

"So you want me to give this to Harry?"

"Yes, it will not only make him the heir but also act as yours does and remove all charms on the boy. Every time either you or he remove and replace your rings, it will repeat the process."

"Will it hurt him though?" he asked in concern, remembering the pain of claiming his own ring.

"No. It does not need to check intentions or blood. He needs only to be given permission to wear it by the bearer of the family ring. The head of the family can also revoke the right to wear the ring at any time and the ring will slip from the finger and refuse to be worn."

"Good," he said, relieved that it would not hurt the boy, "What about mine? If I take it off and put it back on in case of tracking charms, will it hurt again?"

"No."

Evan nodded, thinking that this ring would be very useful.

"Oh, I also need somewhere to stay. How do I get to the Potter Manor?"

He was eager at the though of seeing his ancestral home and angry that his Dumbledore had no doubt kept its existence from him.

"Like most old family manors, it is unplottable so I cannot tell you where it is. It can be reached by portkey."

Here the goblin withdrew from his drawer an old fashioned gold key, decorated with sapphires and hanging on a gold chain. He slipped it across the desk to the dark haired boy, who immediately looped it over his neck.

"How do I use it?"

"That portkey will only transport someone bearing the family head ring and those he is accompanying. Anyone else trying to use it will find themselves portkeyed directly to the manor's dungeons. The password can be set by tapping the key with your wand and saying 'set password' and then the password, followed by 'password set'."

"What about if I wanted to let someone else in? Do I have to collect them every time?"

"You can key people into the wards. I am unsure of the method, I only know that you can find out how at the manor itself. Also, if the head of family does not return to the house within two years, the manor wards automatically reset. So, if the Potters had not done so personally, you need not worry about Dumbledore or someone else having access to your home."

He nodded in relief at that.

"Well," Jarnack said, "That appears to be all. Is there anything else you need to know?"

"I need to make a withdrawal from the Potter vault. But other than that, nothing that I can think of. I'll ask if I ever think of anything."

"Very well."

Jarnack then climbed down from his chair and led him towards the door. Suddenly a thought occurred to Evan.

"So exactly how much money do I have now?" he asked curiously

Five minutes later an amused Jarnack let the shocked and dazed Harry from the office.

"To the vault?" the goblin asked, shaking Harry from his daze.

"Oh, right vault," he said getting over the shock of just how rich he now was, "Yes I need to go to the vault."

A short and heart racing cart ride later they screeched to a halt outside the Potter family vault. Evan was by this stage over his shock. Jarnack advised that so long as he wore the family ring he need only lay his palm on the door and command it to open. The now collected Evan did as suggested and found himself dazed once more on seeing for his own eyes the extent of his wealth.

Another ten minutes later, Evan Potter was leaving Gringotts, his newly filled money sack jingling on his hip and, for the first time ever, eager to get to Privet Drive.

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	8. A Rescue

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: For all those who have been waiting, you finally get to meet lil Harry. Yay! Also, thanks to all the reviewers. I got the most reviews for any of my chapters for the last one. Thanks for your support._

**Chapter 8 – A Rescue **

– _Sun, 7/2/1988_ –

Privet Drive was exactly as he remembered it. Boring, normal, ordinary. Rows of brick houses lined the street, each one near identical to the one beside it. The gardens, although sometimes colourful, were meticulously maintained, the grass perfectly cut. Everything was overwhelmingly, neat.

As he walked down the street, he ignored the nosy neighbours who peeked out from behind their curtains, wondering just who the new stranger was. He would no doubt make the rounds with the gossiping wives over the next few days. Likely they'd brand him as some sort of delinquent once again, given the state of Dudley's old hand-me-downs which he wore. He took a perverse sort of pleasure at the thought of Petunia having to find a way to explain his presence. Perhaps he could do something stupid, send a little more negative gossip in her direction. He quickly dismissed the idea though, tempting as it may be. No doubt it would soon be common knowledge that he was the good-for-nothing cousin of the problem child they had so _graciously_ taken in. Oh well, he cared little for the opinions of the local denizens.

Reaching the house whose letterbox proclaimed it to be number four, he paused and examined the building. It was almost the same as he had left it, from the white picket fence he recalled often painting, to the yellow daffodils that this world's Harry was no doubt forced to plant, just as he had been. A few of the flowers were different. The rose bushes had not yet been planted. He was glad he'd spare the boy that painful chore. He remembered well the many scratches he had received from the thorns and his aunt's characteristic lack of care at his pain.

With a sigh, he shook off his thoughts, unlatching the gate and walking down the pebbled path, hearing the gate swing shut behind him. Mrs Number Six was watching him avidly through her kitchen window, so he hurriedly knocked on the front door. He wanted this business over and done with before the nosy woman just 'happened' to decided today was the day to visit the neighbours.

There was the sound of light footsteps and a brief pause. He knew from experience that it was his aunt and she was pausing to paste the perfect welcoming smile on her face. Sure enough, the door soon swung open revealing a smiling Petunia Dursley. Her smile faltered slightly at the sight of him however. She could hardly have not caught his resemblance to her nephew and sister's husband. Nevertheless, she pasted her welcoming look back on, although it was now tinted somewhat with suspicion.

"Good morning. What can I do for you young man?"

Deciding this whole thing would go smoother if he didn't have to argue with the Dursleys or endure taunts about his freakishness, he decided it best to be as polite as possible.

"Good morning ma'am. Would you be Mrs Petunia Dursley?"

"I am she."

"Wonderful. I was wondering if I could have a word with you and your husband."

"What about?" she asked, suspicion leaking into her voice.

"Perhaps we could discuss this inside?"

He looked pointedly toward Mrs Number Six. Petunia followed his gaze and started slightly before waving demurely to the woman as though nothing were the matter. Her eyes darted about, as though looking for any other watchers, and she nodded hastily.

"Yes. Yes, do come in."

She let him in and led him into the living room. As they passed the stairs, he cast the small cupboard door a brief glance. Luckily the woman did not notice, merely gesturing for him to take a seat on the couch.

"I'll just go get Vernon. Would you like anything to drink?" she offered, ever the perfect hostess.

"No thanks."

She nodded and hurried from the room. Luckily it was a weekend. He hadn't considered it before arriving but if it had been a week day, he would have had to return in the evening to get Vernon's signature. He had no desire to make a second trip.

There was the faint sound of voices from upstairs – if you could ever refer to Vernon's booming voice as faint – followed by the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs. Vernon entered the room, followed by his wife and stopped short on seeing him. It seemed Petunia had not mentioned his resemblance to their nephew. The large man frowned and seemed about say something when Petunia laid a hand on his arm and shook her head discretely at him. No doubt it was a warning not to go off on a stranger. At least not until they knew for sure he was a wizard, as he could tell they suspected.

The alternate of his uncle sat in an armchair across from him, the furniture groaning and sagging under his weight. Petunia took the armchair beside him, sitting stiffly on the edge.

"Well," Vernon asked gruffly, "What can I do for you Mr…"

Left with no choice, he answered.

"Potter. Evan Potter."

The man's face immediately grew red, his moustache twitching testily. Petunia had gone pale, her lips pinched as she wrung her hands.

"You're one of _them_ aren't you?" Vernon demanded.

"Yes, I'm a wizard."

And that was the end of politeness. Vernon jumped to his feet, towering over him.

"I'll not have your sort in my house!" he bellowed.

"Thank goodness my Diddums isn't here," Petunia screeched.

"- get out -"

"- not have you sullying my home -"

"- abnormalness -"

"- FREAK!"

At the last comment he finally snapped.

"_Silencio_!_ Petrificus Totalus_!"

As the two raging muggles were silenced and then toppled over he gave a sigh of relief that he was now able to do magic. An owl flying through the window bearing a Ministry warning was not what this situation needed.

"Right. Now, I'm going to remove the spells but only if you both behave. Alright?" realising they couldn't answer, he added, "Blink once for no, twice for yes."

The immediately blinked rapidly and he released them with a "_Finite Incantatem_." They both scrambled to their feet, Mrs Dursley hiding behind her husband's considerable form. Mr Dursley was turning from red to a worrying purple and immediately opened his mouth – no doubt to begin yelling again – when Evan pointed his wand at him.

"You will be silent, or I will make you silent. Clear?" he bit out, very annoyed with the situation.

After a moment the man nodded, although Evan could see it cost him a great deal to do so. From the vain popping out at his temple he was sure the man would rather take him by the collar and throw him bodily from the house. Tensely, the two muggles retook their seat with fear in their eyes. A strained silence followed. Finally, Petunia spoke up.

"Why are you here?" she demanded.

Glad to get the conversation back on track, he went straight to the point.

"As I said, my name is Evan Potter. I only recently found out about my cousin."

"You mean the boy?" Vernon interrupted.

"If by 'boy' you mean Harry Potter then yes."

"If you're wanting visitation rights then think again," Petunia spat acidly, "I'll not have one of your lot coming and going from our home on a regular basis.

"Nor will I have you making that child any more of a freak than he already is," Vernon added.

He gripped his wand tightly, trying to control his temper. It was bad enough when his version of the Durleys talked about him this way, but he had really come to think of this world's Harry Potter as another person. Another person who also happened to be a child and would be family to him. It took everything in him to stop from cursing them both for speaking about his 'cousin' that way.

Taking a deep breath to get control of himself, he noticed Petunia gripping her husbands arm tightly again in order to silence him. Clearly she saw the effect they were having on his temper and wanted the situation exacerbated just as much as he did – that is to say, not at all.

"I don't want visitation rights," he finally managed to say, "I want custody."

Silence followed his statement. He wasn't sure how they were going to react to his request. On the one hand, this was their chance to get rid of their nephew – the bane of their existence. On the other they had promised, on taking the boy in, to stamp the magic out of him and were quite serious in this vow. Looking up he saw them staring between each other and him, and in their eyes shone a light. The light of hope. He barely restrained a smile, unbelievably grateful that they were following the former of the two possible reactions.

"You want the boy?" this version of his aunt questioned, as though needing to hear it again.

"As in, you'll take him away and he'll never darken our doorstep again?"

"Yes Vernon, Petunia. I want my cousin to come and live with me."

As he said that he heard a stifled gasp come from out in the hallway. Luckily neither of the Dursleys seemed to have noticed. Since Dudley was not home and he knew for a fact that conversations in the living room could be overheard from the hallway cupboard, he knew it must have been Harry. He allowed himself for a moment to imagine himself in the boy's place. Many a time he had laid in his cupboard, imagining that some unknown relative would come and rescue him from the Dursleys. Here and now, for this Harry, that dream was coming true.

"What do we need to do?"

Vernon had adopted his businesslike manner and Petunia was looking at him eagerly. Nodding, he withdrew from his pocket the scroll Jarnack had given him, untying the ribbon and unrolling it. He ignored the obvious distaste of the couple opposite him and the not so discretely comment of "primitive methods" as he pushed the parchment towards the two.

"I just need you to sign this in the appropriate places."

"Petunia pet, fetch me a pen."

The woman hurried from the room and the remaining two sat tensely, avoiding eye-contact until she retuned. Vernon accepted the pen and the two sat, leaning over the parchment, reading over the form quickly but carefully. Finally the large man gave a satisfied nod and signed his name at the end then handed his wife the pen. Petunia, her face alight with eagerness, then signed her name also and handed the parchment and pen over to their 'guest'. Looking quickly at the page and the space at the bottom for the signature of the new guardian, he quickly signed as Evan Adam Potter and set down the pen with a smile.

In a strange moment of comradery all three of them sat happily, smiling at one another. Fortunately, the strange moment passed quickly as they all realised just who they were smiling with.

"Well," Petunia fidgeting in her seat, "I'll, er, just fetch him from his room."

As she rose he realised why she was acting so awkwardly. The Dursleys couldn't bear the thought of their dirty laundry being aired. And, one of 'those sort' or not, they didn't want a stranger knowing just where it was that they had been keeping their nephew for the past years. Giving a sardonic smile, he too stood up and Vernon followed his example, shielding his wife. Ignoring the fact that the man thought he was going to attack her, he spoke.

"Really Mrs Dursley, there's no need for that. I can fetch him myself."

"No, no I'll get him," she said in a strained voice.

His expression hardened, an angry look entering his eye.

"There's no need. I already know where you've been keeping him."

With that he pushed past them and out into the hall. He ignored the strangled sound Petunia made as he stopped at the door to the cupboard under the stairs. He took a second to imagine how Harry must be feeling, waiting anxiously behind door, before reaching for the handle and swinging it open.

Two green eyes blinked at the sudden light before focussing on the face before them. Evan watched as the boy examined him, an awe filled look covering his face as he recognised familiar features and realised that this wasn't just some cruel joke on the Dursleys' part. Realised that this person was really his family.

The little boy was sat curled up on the edge of his cot, his arms wrapped tightly around knees which were folded to his chest. As Evan kneeled down before him the young boy's arms twitched and he leaned forwards before stopping and holding himself tensely. The elder boy was confused by this behaviour until the reason behind it came to him in a flash of insight.

He himself remembered dreaming of some relative coming to rescue him. Sometimes it was his parents, miraculously alive. Other times it was an aunt or uncle, a grandmother or grandfather. But one thing remained the same in every imagining. They would come to his cupboard and they would kneel down and they would hug him. The Dursleys had always told him he wasn't worthy of such things, because no one would ever love him. But whenever he imagined, they would always hug him, like he never remembered being hugged before.

He focussed back on the boy – on hopeful green eyes just like his own. With a soft smile he held out his arms toward him.

"Come here," he whispered.

In a flash skinny limbs were wrapped tightly around him, a face buried in the crook of his neck. He wrapped his body around the small frame as it began shaking slightly, feeling the wetness of tears running down his neck.

"Shh," he soothed, running his hands gently up and down his back, rocking back and forth.

This only seemed to bring forth another torrent of tears but he kept soothing and rocking him. At the sound of shuffling feet his gaze whipped towards the forgotten Dursleys. He took in the angry and disgusted looks on their faces and protectively held the crying boy tighter. In that moment something changed and he knew that this little boy was his. His cousin, his ward, his family, and he would protect and love him always.

As the tears slowed he kissed the boy gently on the forehead, remembering how jealous he used to be when Petunia would do the same for Dudley. The small head leaned back, tearstained face looking up at him, wide eyes showing surprise at the gesture. The boy bit his lip, clearly wanting to ask something but no doubt remembering the first rule of living with the Dursleys – don't ask questions. That was one thing he wanted to change. He wanted his Harry to know that he could always come to him when he had a question.

"What is it?" at the still hesitant look he added, "You can always tell me when you have a question."

This seemed to convince the boy.

"I- I'm going to live with you?"

He nodded, "Yes. You'll never have to return to the Dursleys again."

Green eyes brightened and a shy grin spread across his face.

"And you're my cousin?" he asked eagerly.

His first instinct was to say yes, that he was his cousin on his father's side. But then he remembered Dumbledore and how much it had hurt him when he had found out he had been lied to and that secrets had been kept from him. Then and there he vowed never to lie to this boy.

"Something like that," he said evasively.

Harry looked at him suspiciously. The boy was not stupid, in fact he was quite perceptive. With the Dursleys he was not allowed to talk, so he spent the majority of his time listening and watching people. Harry remembered when he used to be the same, before he had gone to Hogwarts. He discreetly looked from the boy in his arms over to his aunt and uncle standing nearby. He dropped another kiss on his head to hide his whispered words.

"I'll explain later. But we _are_ family."

The boy followed his gaze and nodded in understanding.

"Now, how about you get any stuff you want to take with you?"

At Evan's suggestion, Harry slowly released him, reluctant to let go. The boy lifted his mattress pulling out a few pieces of paper and two toy soldiers. Evan remembered that this used to be his secret place too, before he had been moved to Dudley's second bedroom.

As he turned back towards his rescuer he seemed hesitant. Taking a guess at the direction of his boy's thoughts, Evan scooped him up, soon managing to settle him comfortably on his hip. From the bright smile he received in return and the way the little body snuggled into his he knew he had guessed correctly.

"Well, good riddance," the gruff voice caught both their attention.

The young boy burrowed deeper into his chest and he squeezed him reassuringly.

"Mr Dursley, Mrs Dursley. I'd say it's been a pleasure, but – well it really hasn't."

That almost set the man off again but Petunia held his arm tightly and shushed him. She walked to the front door and held it open, standing there stiffly.

"Well you have the child. I'll thank you kindly to leave our home now."

Not wanting to argue further and eager to leave, he merely nodded and strode through from the house. As the door was shut firmly behind them the locks could be heard clicking into place – although how they thought that could stop him if he was determined to re-enter was beyond him. Still holding his charge, he walked down the pebbled path and through the front gate, absently noticing that Mrs Number Six was once again peeking through her kitchen window. He stoped a moment and looked back up at number four. If he had his way this would be the last time either of them would ever lay eyes on this house again.

"Good riddance," he murmured.

The head in his chest rose at the comment and looked in the direction of his gaze before nodding.

"Good riddance," he agreed with a smile.

Ten minutes later found the two boys in the local park, sitting at the picnic table. He had decided that it would be best to explain a few things to Harry – in particular the existence of magic – before whisking him away by portkey. It was a disconcerting enough form of travel as it was, without having no idea what had happened.

He knew that Dumbledore likely knew the boy had left the house. However, since Evan knew that his Dumbledore hadn't turned up on the Dursleys' doorstep each time he left the house, any tracking charms must warn him when Harry wandered a little further from home – possibly if he left the neighbourhood. Thinking of tracking charms also got him thinking of the wards. He realised that he had never stopped to consider whether they would identify if another witch or wizard entered them, or at least if they performed magic. Fortunately, since they had yet to find themselves confronting the old man it seemed it was not the case. Or perhaps, he thought as the idea occurred to him, perhaps his magic and this Harry's magic registered as they same, and Dumbledore merely thought he had had an outburst of accidental magic this morning.

"Sir?"

The timid voice from beside him drew him from his ponderings.

"Sorry," he apologised, "My mind was wondering."

"That's okay sir."

He scrunched up his nose. 'Sir' was for Uncle Vernon and Professors.

"It's Evan," he corrected.

"Evan?"

"Yes," he then adopted a posh voice, "Evan Adam Potter, but please call me Evan. It's a pleasure to meet you kind sir."

Harry giggled, and accepted the outstretched hand, shaking it. Then he sat up straight and tried to look posh also.

"Harry James Potter, pleasure to meet you too. But call me Harry."

Evan grinned and the younger boy grinned back.

"Right then Harry, there's a few things I need to explain to you, so I need you to listen carefully, alright?"

The boy straightened up, looking both attentive and expectant.

"Yes sir- I mean Evan."

"Good. Okay, the first thing you need to know is this," he leaned close and looked the boy straight in the eye, "Magic is real."

The boy blinked, and then blinked again. Then he frowned.

"But the Dursleys said -"

"Ah, yes. The Dursleys. The second thing you need to know is that the Dursleys are horrible people. And, for the most part, liars."

The younger seemed to consider this and obviously could find no fault with the logic. An eager light shone in his eye.

"Can- can you show me some?"

He smiled and nodded, withdrawing his wand. Looking around to ensure no one was watching nearby, he pointed the wand at a nearby stick.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_."

The stick jumped into the air and began dancing around as Evan directed it. Little Harry was staring at the display in shock, his mouth hanging open.

"Brilliant," the boy whispered.

"It is, isn't it? And you want to know the best part?" the boy nodded, "When you're older, you'll be able to do magic too."

"I'll be able to do magic?" he asked uncertainly.

"Yes, because you're a wizard, just like me."

The look on the boys face was hopeful for a moment, before falling.

"No, you've made a mistake. I can't be a wizard, I'm just Harry."

Evan blinked, remembering that he had said something much the same when Hagrid had told him that he was magical. He decided to go the same route as Hagrid had.

"Well, 'Just Harry'," he said as had once been said to him, "Did you ever make anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain, when you were angry or scared?"

Harry looked thoughtful, then surprised.

"I have. But the Dursleys always got angry," his eyes widened, "They knew didn't they? They knew but they didn't like it. Didn't like that I can do magic. That's why they never liked me"

Evan nodded sadly, "I'm afraid so. They're some of the most magic hating muggles you'll ever meet."

The new word seemed to distract the child from his sad thoughts, for which Evan was thankful.

"Muggle?"

"It means a person who is non-magical."

"And a magic person is called a wizard."

"Yes, except for girls, they're called witches."

"Are there any other types?"

"Well, witches and wizards can be one of three types," he said, deciding now was as good a time as any to explain, "There's pure-bloods, whose parents are both magical for a number of generations. There are also half-bloods. Half-bloods have one wizarding parent and one muggle parent or grandparent. Then there's muggle-borns. Muggle-borns are magical children born from muggle parents."

"Like me."

Evan shook his head, "No, you're a half-blood Harry. Both your parents were magical."

"They were?" at the nod he turned thoughtful, "And that's why the Dursleys always said bad things about them isn't it?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

There was silence for a moment before Harry spoke up again. Evan was glad he had taken his words to heart and felt free to ask questions of him when he wanted.

"What about you? What are you?"

"I'm a half-blood."

"Like me."

"Exactly like you," he replied with a sardonic smile which he knew the other wouldn't understand.

"How are you related to me then?"

He opened his mouth to explain before he thought better of it. Perhaps he was being paranoid but he didn't want to talk about this out in the open.

"I'll explain when we get home," at the uncertain look he received he added, "I promise."

"Okay," Harry agreed, "Where are we living? How will we get there?"

"Where I'm not sure, but I do know how to get there. We're going to use a form of magical transport," the boy looked excited at the prospect, "We're going to get there by something called a 'portkey'. A portkey is an enchanted object which, when you touch it, teleports you to a certain location."

"But what if you touch it by accident."

"Well, some have passwords. Speaking of- now what did Jarnack say? Oh, I remember," he tapped his wand to the golden key hanging from his neck, "_Set password, 'take me home', password set_."

The key glowed for a moment before returning to normal. At the fascinated look on Harry face, Evan wondered when he had stopped appreciating magic. He remembered fondly a time when every little spell had seemed amazing to him.

"What did that do?"

"I just set the password for our portkey," he explained, "Now; magic is kept secret from most muggles so we need somewhere private to leave from."

"Because they'd get awful suspicious if we disappeared into thin air," Harry nodded solemnly and Evan had to bite back a laugh.

"Yes they would," he stood up from the bench, "Now, follow me."

In the end, they ended up hiding behind a copse of trees at the back of the park. Evan, remembering unfavourably his first portkey trip, decided to warn Harry of what to expect.

"Okay, to do this we'll both need to be touching the key when I say the password. What you're going to feel is something like a hook behind your navel. Don't worry it doesn't hurt, just feels rather strange. Anyway the hook will pull you off the ground and your hand will feel stuck to the key. Then when we arrive your hand will be let go and you'll be slammed back to the ground. Most likely you'll end up falling over, I know I always do."

Harry had listened to the explanation attentively. He stretched his hand out and gave a questioning look. At Evan's nod he held onto the bottom of the key whilst the elder boy grabbed onto the top of it. He was about to say the password when he realised he had almost forgotten something very important.

"Can't believe I almost forgot."

He pulled the tied scroll from his pocket. Tapping it three times with his wand as Jarnack had directed, he watched as it disappeared with a puff of smoke. Happy that was done, he then pulled the ring box from the depths of his other pocket. Harry watched him as he opened it and withdrew the heir ring, before replacing the box in his pocket. He handed the ring to the boy.

"Here, I need you to put this on."

"Any finger?"

"Any finger."

The boy fitted the ring on his right middle finger – the same as he had, he noted – and it glowed white for a moment before returning to normal.

"What was that?"

"That was removing any charms from your person."

He could tell that Harry was confused but did not have time to explain. The headmaster would soon realise all his tracking charms had been deactivated, so they had to be gone from here.

"Ready to go home?" he asked, motioning for Harry to take hold of the key again.

"Yes," he said, a determined look on his young face, "Let's go."

"Right, _take me home_."

With that a hook grabbed at them, and the Potter boys disappeared from Little Whinging, Surrey.

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	9. Home and Explanations

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. Glad everyone seems to be liking lil Harry. Also, I recently got a review from a _–_Jayley_–_ who was wondering if this story is going anywhere. Thought I'd post my response for anyone else wondering the same thing:_

_I do have plans for where this story is going, but the story 'is' just getting started so we're not terribly deep into the plot just yet. Ultimately it'll end after Voldemort is defeated. Yeah, I know what you're thinking - Voldemort hasn't even been mentioned in this story yet. That just lets you know there's still a way to go before I get there. Hmm, what else can I tell you without giving away too much? Well, Lupin will enter the story in a few chapters. Also, Evan will be returning to Hogwarts eventually and making some new friends. Lucius Malfoy will have a part in this story, as Tom Riddle's diary will make an appearance. That's all I can really say without giving too much away._

_Also a couple of reviewers have mentioned Dumbledore. It'll be a few chapters yet before you get to see his reaction to events. Needless to say, he will be less than pleased._

_Oh, and _–_Sylkie_–_ mentioned that Evan didn't curse the Dursleys or anything. I forgot to keep a copy of my respose to that comment but I'll explain it anyway. Firstly, he needed to get his business done and out of there as quickly as possible before Dumbledore caught on. Also, I figure that it's lil Harry's place to mete out punishment to this world's Durleys if he so chooses. I do have tentative plans for him take some sort of legal action against them when he gets older._

_Well, that's all from me folks. Enjoy the next chappie!_

**Chapter 9 – Home and Explanations **

– _Sun, 7/2/1988_ –

They arrived in a tangle of limbs, feet slamming into the ground before losing their balance, falling sprawled across the floor. Luckily Evan landed on the bottom of the pile. Small for his age though he may have been, he was still large enough compared to Harry that he would have hurt the little boy.

After much awkward untangling and several apologises for the squashing of various limbs, the two managed to find their feet again. Then they stopped and stared in open mouthed awe.

Potter Manor certainly lived up to its name. The place was obviously fantastically wealthy, and was quite grand looking, but in a tasteful manner. They had arrived in a large entrance hall, much like that of Hogwarts in that a large staircase dominated the room and several large doors led off from it. That was where the similarities ended however.

The floor was done in polished marble, as was the staircase. The banisters were black and the railings and floors were done in white, all veined in gold. In the centre of the floor was inlaid the Potter crest in black marble among the white. The stairs were carpeted in blood red trimmed in gold; the lush sort of carpet that begged to be waked about on barefoot. The focus of the room was a large, beautiful, crystal chandelier, accented in gold. It hung from the ceiling and even unlit it reflected rainbows of colour about the room.

"Wow," Evan whispered.

"You live here?" came Harry's awed voice.

"Apparently," at the questioning look he added, "I only inherited the place today. This is the first time I've ever seen it."

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, it really is."

At the sound of creaking they both turned to look to the left. The huge door swung open a small way and through it walked a tiny creature with large pointed ears and enormous blue eyes. It was humming to itself merrily. Harry, having never seen a house-elf before, gave a small yelp of surprise, drawing the attention of the elf who in turn squeaked in shock.

"Who is youse?" the creature asked in a high squeaky voice, "What is youse doing here?"

Harry shifted his gaze nervously from the elf to his companion. Sensing his charge's uncertainty, Evan rested a hand on his shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze, feeling the young boy relax somewhat.

"Hello," he greeted the confused elf politely, "My name is Evan Potter and this here is Harry Potter-"

He got no further than that as the little elf began dancing around happily.

"Masters has come, Masters has come! Tilly is so happy!" she suddenly stopped dancing, "Oh, Tilly must tell to old Kell the news!"

And with that she disappeared with a soft 'pop', leaving the two boys staring at where she had been in confusion.

"What was that?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

Hermione would kill me, Evan thought to himself.

"That was a house-elf. They're sort of servants in wizard homes who are bound to the family."

"Like how I used to be with the Dursleys?"

Evan winced, "Yes sort of like that, only house-elves enjoy serving their families. They consider it an honour."

"Why?"

"I don't know, they're strange like that. Unfortunately, some wizards don't appreciate them and treat them quite badly. I once knew an elf that was expected to iron his hands and bash his head about whenever he disobeyed or spoke badly of his master."

"That's terrible!" the boy looked horrified.

"I know. I didn't know that this manor had elves, but now that I do we'll have to make sure we treat them well."

He saw a determined look settle over Harry's face. As the boy nodded firmly he knew he would never have to worry about him mistreating their servants. At the sound of a soft pop, followed by another, they looked down to see that the house-elf Tilly had returned and another had come with her.

The other elf was perhaps the oldest he had ever seen barring Kreacher. He was stooped and heavily wrinkled, walking with the aid of a small knobbly cane. Unlike the demented Black elf however, his age seemed to give him a sort of dignity.

"You sees, Kell?" Tilly squeaked enthusiastically, "Masters! Masters in the manor again!"

"Yes," the elder elf's voice was a strange mixture high yet croaky, "Youse are indeed Masters. Youse is wearing Potter rings. Greetings Masters, I is Kell."

"Yes, Greetings Masters," the younger elf said, "How may Tilly and Kell serve youse?"

"Well," said the elder Potter, "As I told Tilly before, I'm Evan and this is Harry."

"Master James's son!"

"Yes Tilly, James Potter's son."

"But you is too old to be Master James's son also," Kell said perceptively.

He bit his lip, wondering what to say. He glanced to his side and say that Harry was staring at him avidly also. Clearly the boy wanted to know the answer as well. Knowing that he would have to tell him and that house-elves could be trusted to keep secrets, he made his decision and gave a nod.

"Alright. I'll explain my story to you all. But first, is there anyone else living in the manor? It would be easier for me to explain to you all at once."

"Tilly will show you to the parlour. Kell will fetch the other elves."

With that the old elf gave a bow and popped away. Tilly then directed the two to one of the side doors.

"This way young Masters."

The door opened directly into the parlour. The room was decorated in dark blues and soft creams with delicately carved furniture filling the room. A painting of the sea on a full moon night adorned the wall. The enthusiastic house elf gestured for them to take a seat on a blue cushioned couch whose arms and feet were carved to look like intricate vines growing up and out from the plush carpet.

The boys took a seat but Tilly did not, choosing to stand at attention opposite them. Evan was about to offer her a seat when three soft pops echoed in the room as three house-elves appeared. The first was Kell, who they already knew. The other two looked up at him with their large eyes before the one on the left bowed and the other curtseyed awkwardly, sending fond looks towards a bundle in her arms. A small high-pitched gurgle drew his attention to the reason for the she-elf's awkwardness and doting expression. In her arms was the tiniest elf he had ever seen. It eyes were huge and blue, blinking about at the room. Its ears seemed even larger than normal for a house-elf when compared to its tiny face. It was a baby.

"As Master knows," Kell spoke up, "I is Kell. I is manager of household. This is Kell's son Gully. Gully is keeper of grounds. This elf is Libby, Gully's mate, who is in charge of kitchens. Tilly is Libby and Gully's first elfling. She keeps house clean. Baby elfling who Libby holds is Kell's second grand-elfling, Mina."

"Nice to meet you all," Evan said

"Hi!" Harry waved shyly from where he was tucked against his side.

Evan could tell the younger boy's bashful behaviour had immediately endeared him to Libby who was now alternating her motherly looks between the boy and the elfling in her arms. Kell turned to address the two new elves.

"The little Master is Master Evan," he introduced, "And the littler Master is Master Harry."

Evan pouted at being referred to as 'little' but the elves seemed not to notice as Gully and Libby bowed and curtseyed once again.

"Why don't you all have a seat? I have quite a story for you all," he suggested.

The elves looked mildly surprised but sat down nonetheless. Evan was hearted by the implications of the fact that they had not collectively burst into tears at the gesture. It seems his family had been in the habit of treating their servants well.

He looked from the elves to the curious and eager face of the boy curled against his side and decided to start as he had with the goblins. He would keep the story a bit more simple however, so that Harry could understand.

"Well, the first thing you need to know is that I'm not from around here," they all stared at him attentively, not interrupting and so he continued, "You see, I recently finished my fifth year at Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts?" the younger boy asked.

"It's a school for witchcraft and wizardry."

"That's a funny name," he wrinkled his nose.

"I suppose so, but all young witches and wizards get invited to go there."

"Even me?"

"Even you. You'll get a letter when you're eleven."

As the boy settled down, questions answered, he went back to his story.

"Anyway, near the end of the year a dark wizard sent me a false vision of my godfather being tortured in the Department of Mysteries at the Ministry of Magic," his audience gasped in horror, "My friends and I went there to save him, not knowing that it was all false. Unfortunately it was a trap set by the dark wizard and there was a battle. Some older witches and wizards turned up to save us, including my godfather."

He paused, unable to continue. He felt a hand slip into his and glanced down in to worried green eyes. Appreciating the gesture, he smiled and found it in himself to continue.

"I won't go into detail about what happened. Just that my friends were hurt very badly and my godfather-" he choked, "My godfather died."

Harry's hand held his tighter and Libby and Tilly hiccoughed, looking teary eyed, as did Kell and Gully. He shook off those depressing thoughts, continuing on.

"Anyway, when the holidays came I went back home to my aunt and uncle who I had to live with. One day, I was going through my school trunk and I found something in my robe pocket. It was a time-turner. I think it must have dropped in there when we were battling in the Time Room at the Ministry."

He looked up and about at his audience. For the most part they all look confused. Only Kell seemed to know what a time-turner was as he was looking wide-eyed between the Potter boys, noticing the striking similarities. Deciding to fill the others in, he explained.

"A time-turner is a device that allows you to travel backwards in time."

"Like a time machine?" Harry looked very impressed.

"Kind of, except it looks like an hourglass and you have to hold onto it to get where you're going," the young boy nodded in understanding, "I decided I wanted to go back and stop myself from falling for the dark wizard's trick so no one would be hurt. Now what you have to understand is that my parents died when I was very young."

"Like mine?"

"Exactly like yours. So, instead of just wanting to go back a little way, I changed my mind and decided to go back to before my parents died and stop it from happening. Unfortunately, it didn't go according to plan."

Harry was listening in fascination, as were the elves.

"What happened?" Tilly asked breathily.

"Well, first I arrived at the wrong time – I didn't go back far enough. I don't know why, but I found out that I was years too late to save my parents. But, I realised I could still help my godfather. You see, my godfather was sent to jail for something he didn't do. So I decided to catch the person who actually did the crime so that he could be freed. But, when I went to find the bad man, he wasn't there."

"Where was he?"

"That's the very question I asked Harry. So, I went to the library and did some research. I found a very useful book on time travel and found some shocking information. It was all very complicated but it sums up to that a person cannot change the past."

"But then how is you here?" Libby spoke up for the first time.

"That exactly what I wondered, so I kept reading. In the end it had the answer. I not only travelled to another time but I also travelled to another dimension."

Silence followed this pronouncement as they all stared at him with mouths ajar. Finally, Harry broke it.

"So you're from another dimension," Evan nodded, "Wow!"

Kell was now staring at him in a calculating manner.

"You is Master Harry, isn't you?" he stated.

The other house-elves all looked surprised. Harry looked confused at the mention of his name. He glanced from Kell to Evan before his eyes widened. He had figured it out too.

"You're a future me. That's why your parents died too and you had to live with your uncle and aunt as well. And that's how you knew I was in the cupboard."

Evan nodded and the boy sat back in shock. He decided to go on and explained what had happened at Gringotts. About needing money and then finding out a way to save Harry from the Durseys.

"Things got a bit better after my Hogwarts letter because the Dursleys were afraid the wizards knew where I slept. It was still horrible though and I still remember how bad it was when I was little. There was no way I was going to let them keep you."

Harry's eyes became watery and his bottom lip began trembling. Evan held out his arms to the child and for the second time that day found himself with the little boy crying against his neck. He soothed him, rocking him back and forth. The house-elves watched on quietly but worriedly, not fully understanding what was wrong with their young Master.

Eventually the boy's cries trailed off and his breathing evened out. Looking down, Evan found that he had fallen asleep. He looked up at the house-elves whose eyes were alight with questions. Sighing he realised it would be best to explain the situation to them. And now, whilst Harry was asleep, seem an ideal time to do so.

And so, Evan went on to explain what life had been like for the two of them as children and what sort of people the Dursleys were. He also explained what Harry had meant by the cupboard reference.

The house-elves were horrified, especially the motherly Libby. Were it not for the fact that their 'littler Master' was sleeping he felt sure she would have wailed aloud at what they heard. As it was, they were all teary-eyed and Gully was patting the quietly sobbing Libby soothingly on the back.

Shifting Harry slightly to a more comfortable position, Evan suddenly let out a yawn. It was only early evening but he'd had an eventful last few days, not to mention only recently getting out of the hospital. He was quite tired. Libby of course noticed the yawn immediately and the next thing he knew the other elves had popped away and Tilly was leading him upstairs.

He was too tired to keep track of which stairs and halls he passed through, only able to take enough notice to tell the bed he had been directed to drop Harry off into was in a room adjacent his own. He quickly crawled beneath the covers on his own bed and soon after his head hit the pillows, he was fast asleep.

..ooOOoo..

– _Mon, 8/2/1988_ –

Evan awoke the next morning to unfamiliar surroundings. Confused, he looked around the room for some time before the memories of the previous evening filtered through to his conscious mind. Now wide awake and in the light of day, he jumped out of bed and looked about, taking in the details of his new room.

The bedroom was large and quite opulent. It was decorated in browns and teals, with bronze details. The bed was stood on a slightly raised platform and was a four-poster with chocolate coloured velvet drapes. Down from the platform there was a small sitting area with comfortable looking sofas and delicate coffee tables, etched with patterns of forest scenes, the etchings inlaid with bronze. Three doors led off from the room. The large one on the opposite wall he recalled led out to the hall. He assumed the smaller doors led to a closet and an en suite of some description.

Realising with some disgust that he had not bathed since the night before he left his own world, he decided to make use of the bathroom. Removing his trunk from where it still sat, miniaturised in his pocket, he tapped it with his wand to return it to normal size. Selecting an outfit to get changed into, he made a choice and headed for the door on the left. It seemed he had guessed right, as he found himself in the en suite. What he had not expected however, was the size of the room. It was easily the largest bathroom he had ever seen. It carried on the colour scheme of the bedroom and, with the marble floors, large sunken pool and many taps, it reminded him of an even grander version of the prefect's bathroom.

He spent some time fiddling with various taps, and ended up with a pool filled with white soapy bubbles as well as blue ones, the latter of which were scented with wood, fresh air and newly cut grass, bringing to mind the smell of quidditch. In the end he indulged in the warm perfumed water for a good half hour before climbing out, drying himself off and getting dressed. He would have stayed longer but he wanted to check in on Harry and see if he had awoken yet.

A few minutes later found him standing outside in the hall before the door he vaguely recalled leading to the younger boy's room. After a soft knock elicited no response he carefully opened the door and stepped inside.

The room he found himself in reminded him of his own. There were a few differences however, the most obvious being the colour scheme. Harry's room was done in dark blues and beige, with accents of silver. Another difference was that while it still looked quite stylish, it was simpler and less mature looking than his was – more of a child's bedroom. Also, in place of a sitting area was a clear floor space with wooden chests off to the side which Evan suspected were toy chests.

Focussing his attention on the raised bed, he climbed onto the platform and looked down at his young charge. The little boy slept soundly, one hand holding the blankets up under his chin and the other curled beside his face. Laying there in the centre of the huge bed, he looked even tinier than usual. Smiling fondly, Evan sat on the edge of the bed, reaching a hand out to brush the boy's hair out of his eyes. At the gesture Harry stirred, blinking sleepily up at him and looking adorably confused. As Evan brushed his hair from his face once more he seemed to wake up properly and looked up at the older boy shyly, his cheeks blushing slightly.

"Morning Harry, have a good sleep?"

"Good morning," the child smiled, "I had a great sleep. This is the softest bed I've ever been in!"

"I'm not surprised," he said sadly, remembering that he had spent the last years on a hard cot in a dark cupboard.

Harry must have realised the directions of his thoughts as his expression also fell. Wanting to make him smile again, Evan grinned cheerfully.

"Well, you'd best get used to it. This is your room from now on."

It worked better than expected as Harry's eyes became huge as he sat up quickly to inspect the room.

"But it's huge!" the boy exclaimed with a wide grin.

"Huge?" Evan pasted on a mock serious look, "Well, that won't do. You can't have a huge room," the little boy expressions almost turned disappointed before he continued, "You must have a hugemungous one!"

Harry burst into giggles.

"But this _is_ hugemungous."

"Are you sure?"

"I'm positive," he gave a serious nod.

"Well, in that case, it's all your's," this earned him another smile, "Now, how about we head down and get some breakfast?"

They had rather a lot of fun trying to find their way to the dining room. In the end they got so lost in the large manor that they had to call for Tilly to come and show them the way. Fortunately, the young elf seemed to find their predicament as amusing as they did. And so, the three of them ended up walking happily through the halls, Harry telling the elf enthusiastically of the secret passage he had discovered behind a hanging tapestry.

Tilly it seemed was quite well informed of the secret ways, for which Evan was grateful. The younger boy had been thrilled at the find and was already talking about searching for some more. He had a feeling he would spend a lot of time in the months to come searching passageways for his charge when he got himself lost. It would be good to have the help of someone who knew their way around.

Finally they were led through two large double doors and into the dining room. Evan was not at all surprised at how fantastic the room looked. He rather suspected the same could be said for the whole of the house. Tilly led them to the head of the table where he was directed to sit, with Harry in the chair to his right, before she curtseyed and popped away. Harry looked about to ask a question when their end of the long table was suddenly filled with food. Having spent five years at Hogwarts this was par of the course for Evan. Harry however was both surprised and impressed, jumping a little in his seat and then staring at the food in awe.

"Where did the food come from?"

Evan looked up from the scone he was buttering, only just realising that the younger boy had been shocked by the arrival of breakfast.

"The kitchens; Libby would have set the food on a table similar to this one on the floor below. Then, she used magic to send it all up."

Harry was impressed and the older boy just knew he'd find him down in the kitchens sometime soon, questioning the motherly elf on how she had performed the magic. Just when the boy seemed about to eat something he paused. Confused, Evan asked him what was wrong.

"It's just, I wasn't sure if I was allowed any. I didn't even cook this morning."

He put down his scone and turned all his attention to the worrying boy, giving him a serious look.

"Harry, look at me. Now what you need to understand is that this isn't the Dursleys. Things are going to be different here. For one, I will _never_ withhold food from you. You can always be expected to get at least three meals a day. And none of those tiny portions you're used to. I expect you to eat enough to fill you up, understood?" Harry nodded, his eyes wide, "Good. Also, you won't have to cook all the meals or do all the work. Mostly because it's not right to expect so much work from a child. And also partly because I'm sure the house-elves would rebel if you tried to take all their work away," he added the last with a grin.

"They really like work that much?" Harry asked, scrunching up his nose.

"Yes, for some strange reason they do."

"Oh. So I won't ever have to do any work."

"Well," he considered, "I think I'll negotiate with the elves for a few chores for you to do. We don't want you turning into a spoiled, fat layabout like Dudley do we?"

Harry shook his head rapidly from side to side.

"Oh, no. I never want to be like Dudley."

"Right, so we'll give you a few chores. Nothing too big though, okay?"

"Okay."

"Good, now help yourself to some breakfast."

..ooOOoo..

Harry and Evan spent the day exploring the Manor, stopping only for lunch. Harry in particular had a ball, racing about and discovering new passageways. After dinner that night, Evan called the house-elves together in the parlour with him and Harry for another meeting. He needed to explain his cover story to them all so that none of them gave him away.

"What can we do for Masters?" old Kell asked asked, after they were all seated.

"Well, the thing is I need for you all to keep something secret for me."

The house-elves, for whom keeping their masters secrets was considered a matter of honour, immediately began nodding their heads enthusiastically.

"Of course master!" Tilly said.

"Libby not saying a word."

"You tell Kell what secret is and he keeps it quiet."

"You can trust Gully."

He smiled thankfully and looked down at Harry who also nodded. Relieved, he began to explain.

"The thing is time travel without Ministry approval is illegal. As for dimensional travel, I don't know what they would do if they found out I wasn't from this world. Since I don't want to risk ending up in Azkaban, I need you all to keep how I got here a secret."

"Azkaban?"

"It's the wizarding prison."

Harry nodded. Then he looked thoughtful.

"But if we can't tell them the truth what can we tell them?"

The other elves looked at him, wondering the same.

"Well for that I have a cover story."

He explained to them the story he had come up with at the Library. The fact that he was to be the son of the lost Potter brother, as well as all the other intricate details he had come up with. The others listened attentively, committing the story to memory. As he finished his explanation they sat in silence for a moment.

"So Adam Potter was my dad's brother?" Harry asked, seeking clarification.

"Yes, Adam was James's older brother."

"So he would be my Uncle Adam. And you're pretending to be Uncle Adam's son, Evan. So, does that mean that we'll be cousins?" he looked up hopefully.

"Yes," he grinned, "But nothing like Cousin Dudley."

Harry smiled back, looking quite happy about the whole thing. The elves all reassured him that they would stick to the story from now on. Evan was reassured that no one here would give away his secret.

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	10. Back to the Hospital

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Responses to reviews were included at the end but have been removed since they are against rules. Sorry._

**Chapter 10 – Back to the Hospital**

– _Fri, 4/3/1988_ –

Nearly a month had passed since their arrival at Potter Manor. They'd yet to leave the house or its grounds, Evan not wanting to draw any unnecessary attention to the fact that Harry Potter was once again in the wizarding world. Unfortunately he knew he could only continue to keep him hidden for so long. He knew from the way Dumbledore had handled him, just how it felt to be locked up. He had no desire for young Harry to grow to resent him for doing the very same thing.

As it was however, they were all happy where they were for the moment. Evan had worried for some time what he should do about his education. Hogwarts would be just past mid-year at this time though, so he felt he could wait to decide at least until September rolled around. He wasn't sure what would happen then, since he had Harry to think of, but he was happy to put the decision off for as long as possible.

As for Harry, he seemed to not mind the house arrest, although considering his previous living arrangements this most likely seemed like unimaginable freedom to him. Evan, despite living at Hogwarts most of the year, had spent enough time at the Dursleys in his short life to understand the sentiment.

The first time Evan had ventured out onto the grounds, a blur of white feathers had swooped down to attack him. He had assumed Hedwig would find her way to the Manor all on her own, and she had. Unfortunately, Gully – seeing the attack – informed him that the owl had spent the past few days in the home's owlery, as there was no way for her to enter the house proper. Needless to say, his girl had been less than pleased at being kept from him. He had been quick to tell her that he would leave his bedroom window open for her from now on. After much continued begging and petting on his part she finally relented, giving him an affectionate cuff about the ears and hooting as if to say 'never do that again'.

He had then of course, to explain their situation to his feathered companion. By the way she cocked her head to the side he knew that she was confused but understood nonetheless. Still, even with warning, her reaction upon being introduced to Harry was most amusing. She had stared between each of them with eyes wide – even for an owl – before squawking and falling from her perch on his shoulder. He had held in his laughter as much as he could, not wanting to upset her so soon after her accepting his apology. For Harry's part, he was simply bewildered by the whole affair.

Over the rest of the past weeks Evan had come to be infinitely appreciative of the house-elf family that served at the manor. As usual he had given very little consideration to his plan that Sunday morning when he had taken Harry from the Dursleys. Impulsiveness thy name is Evan Potter would be an apt way to put it. He hadn't stopped to think whether he would be able to take care of a young child. Fortunately the elves were there to help – especially Libby who seemed to have adopted them both as two of her own. She kept them healthy and well fed, and was quick to point out important things to him – such as the fact that little boys needed bed times.

The two boys spent most of the first few weeks – as the elder had expected – exploring their new home and acquainting themselves with its layout. Harry in particular, having not had time at Hogwarts to grow used to them, found the secret passageways to be fantastic fun. He had taken to hiding in various places about the house where Evan was expected to be and jumping out, surprising him. Despite the fact that the pastime had long ago begun to annoy him, he had not the heart to rebuke the little boy for it.

Harry's behaviours had varied widely. At times he would be overly quiet, unassuming and painfully shy, as the Dursley's had trained him to be. At other times his behaviour would change radically and he acted like a happy little boy with a habit of playing tricks. With the coaxing of Evan and the manor's family of house-elves however, the fun side was breaking through more and more often. Sometimes Harry could even be a bit of a brat, but he was careful not to do anything to have him reverting to the way he had been expected to be at the Dursley's.

On this particular morning, Evan would regret not having curbed some of his charge's troublemaking tendencies a little more. He had woken up and gotten dressed for the day before heading down to breakfast. He had just reached the foot of the main staircase when an enthusiastic yell from behind him had him spinning around and looking towards the upper landing.

Gasping in horror he watched, unable to do anything, as Harry ran and jumped onto the banister, and began sliding down towards the bottom. He could tell that the boy's intention had been to slide to the bottom and pounce on his cousin. Unfortunately, the spectacle didn't go according to plan.

Harry had reached perhaps halfway down the railing when he lost his balance. Evan could see even from this distance as a look of fear crossed the boy's face. Then suddenly, he could see nothing but a great blur of baggy clothes and tangled limbs as the child tumbled painfully end over end to the foot of the stairs. He landed at the bottom with a thump and a very loud 'crack'.

Bursting back into motion, Evan ran to kneel at the boy's side, disturbed at how pale his face had become. Harry's green eyes were rapidly filling with tears and he was biting his bottom lip, struggling not to cry. Evan had never before realised how disturbing it was to see a child able to hold off crying this way. He knew he must have been the same also, having grown up with the Dursleys himself, but it still didn't seem right.

Focussing back on Harry, the older boy's hands fluttered about him, wanting to touch him to know he was alright but at the same time afraid to accidentally hurt him. Realising he was not helping the situation by panicking he pulled up his Gryffindor courage and took charge of the situation.

"Harry, Harry," he called to get the boys attention, "Harry what was the snap? Harry I need you to tell me where it hurts."

"A-all over," the boy hiccoughed, "Es-especially m-my left a-arm."

He looked down then cursed the baggy old hand-me-downs that made it difficult for him to gauge the extent of the injury. Ever so carefully he inched the left sleeve up his arm. At the sound of a pain filled cry he immediately let go. It didn't matter though, he had seen enough. Harry's arm was bent at an unnatural angle, obviously broken. Added to that he could see bumps and bruises forming on the skin that was exposed. Then there was the possibility of a concussion. He still wasn't sure exactly how to diagnose the latter but Madam Pomfrey was always quite put-out when he had one so he knew it wouldn't be a good thing.

Knowing he couldn't heal these injuries, he called for help.

'_Pop_'

"What can Libby do for- oh!" the motherly house-elf gasped, "Oh dear, what is happening to Master Harry?"

"He fell down the stairs. He has bumps and bruises and a broken arm that I know of. Do you or any of the elves know any healing?"

The elf shook her head rapidly, her eyes tearing.

"No Master, so sorry Master. We is only knowing how to fix the bumps and bruises and also small scratches. Littlest Master is needing St. Mungo's he is."

Cursing, Evan was forced to agree. There was only one problem.

"I don't know how we'll get there. Heck, I don't even know how far away we are since I don't know where the Manor actually is."

"Master Evan can be using the floo, sir," Libby suggested.

He looked over to see the elf staring worriedly at the still paling Harry.

"The floo is connected here?"

"Oh, yes sir. The fireplace in the entrance hall is closest. Come, follow," she directed.

Brushing a shaking hand gently across his cheek to get his attention, Evan explained to Harry that he needed to follow him to the fireplace. He wanted to carry him but was worried about bumping his arm. The child nodded and stood, wincing but still not crying out although some tears were running down his face.

Together they followed Libby through door she held open and into the entrance hall. She led them over the fireplace where she reached on tiptoe and took down an urn from above the mantel. Opening it she held it out to her two Masters, the worried look still on her face. Evan turned to his young cousin to quickly explain floo travel to him.

"Okay, Harry," the boy focussed on him, "We're going to go to the hospital by floo. That means we'll be travelling by fire. Don't worry though it won't hurt, just tickle a bit. I'm going to throw some of this powder Libby has into the fire which will turn it green. Then, we'll both step in. I need you to stand as close to me as you can and hold on. I'll call out our destination and we'll spin away in the fireplace, landing in another fire at the hospital. Do you understand?"

He could tell by the look on his face that he didn't. Still though, Harry nodded and he knew he knew enough to follow the directions he had been given. Taking a pinch of floo from the urn held out to him, he threw it into the flames. After they turned green he ducked into the fireplace, Harry following after. As the child leaned into him, avoiding jostling his left arm and curling the right around his cousin's waist, Evan rested his own carefully on Harry's back. He took a moment to hope the improvements he had recently made in floo travelling were still with him. Then he shouted their destination.

"St. Mungo's Hospital."

And they were whisked away in a swirl of green flames.

They arrived in a fireplace in the floo room of the hospital. Evan sent thanks to Merlin that he had managed to keep both his own balance and Harry's upon arriving. He could tell the ride had been unpleasant for the boy with his injury but fortunately no more so than was necessary.

Following a woman sporting a bird's beak who had just stepped out of another of the fireplaces, they went through a door and found themselves in the emergency waiting room. It was not until they began approaching the reception desk that a rather large problem occurred to him. He had wanted to keep Harry's presence in the magical world quiet, and now here he was in a magical hospital packed with witches and wizards. He winced as they joined the short queue at the desk. There was really nothing for it. Harry needed medical attention and he was determined to get it. He nodded firmly to himself and looked to his side at his young cousin when something caught his attention.

"Alice!" he called, without thought.

He winced yet again as several heads looked their way. Luckily none of the other patients seemed to notice that he was accompanying the boy-who-lived. Relieved he looked back towards the familiar Healer to see her heading in his direction.

"Mr Anonymous," she greeted with a smile, "Come to tell me who you are yet?"

He smiled back distractedly and shook his head.

"Not today ma'am."

"I thought I told you to call me Alice," she scolded.

"Sorry, Alice."

Harry for his part was looking between the two, wondering how they knew on another. Unfortunately, his curiosity drew the attention of Alice. The woman gazed at the child with a friendly expression and he almost sighed in relief. He would have acted to soon however as her kind brown eyes suddenly widened with realisation and she cast a surprised gaze from Harry to he himself.

"Is this who I think it is?"

"Please Alice, don't say anything. The last thing Harry needs at the moment is a scene."

Sensing his guardian's worry Harry pressed close to him, letting out a whimper when he accidentally jostled his broken arm. The Healer noticed and her expression immediately turned businesslike.

"Now dear, what seems to be the problem here?"

"He broke his arm and," he paused, looking around uncomfortably, "Can we maybe go somewhere private."

Alice gave him a piercing look before nodding her head and leading them from the room. The boys followed behind, Evan standing on Harry's right so that the boy could hold his hand. The woman leading them noticed that fact and he got the distinct impression it relaxed her somewhat.

The three soon found themselves closed in an examination room and the woman turned her businesslike demeanour on them once again.

"Now, you said he had a broken arm?"

"Yes, as well as some bumps and bruises. I'm not sure what else. He fell down a rather large flight of stairs," he explained.

Alice gave him another one of those piercing looks. Evidently she was happy with whatever she found as she nodded and turned her full attention to her patient.

"Now Harry dear, I need to take your shirt off to see your injuries, alright."

Harry nodded and bit his lip, obviously bracing himself for the pain to come. Moments later he blinked in surprise as Healer Smyth waved her wand and the shirt disappeared from his body and appeared folded neatly next to him. Before the boy had a chance to even look impressed the woman was checking his arm and body, casting diagnostic spells and clucking disapprovingly.

"And how did you manage this child?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, immediately reverting to his Dursley days' behaviour now that he was around a stranger, before murmuring his answer.

"I wanted to slide down the handrail."

This elicited a raised eyebrow and yet more disproving clucking from the witch.

"Well, lucky for you there's no concussion. As for the arm, we'll have it fixed in a trice."

Harry looked sceptical which was quite understandable in Evan's opinion. He never would have believed just what medi-magic could accomplish on broken bones back when he was new to the wizarding world either.

"First drink this potion so you won't feel any pain as the bone sets."

Harry looked from the potion he was handed to Evan.

"Evan?" he asked uncertainly, surprising Alice who had never heard a name applied to him before.

When the older boy nodded he downed the concoction, grimacing at the taste. The potion soon seemed to take effect however, as Harry gave a sigh and relaxed. Healer Smyth then stood before him, brandishing her wand.

"Osfixis," she stated firmly, jabbing it in the direction of the arm.

Evan watched his young charge's face, smiling at the wonder shown there as the arm realigned itself and healed whole again. He could tell the woman's display of magic had endeared her to his boy.

After that the Healer bustled about collecting some ointments. She rubbed them gently into the bumps and contusions littering Harry's skinny form, nodding in satisfaction as the bumps flattened out and the bruises faded. When she was finally finished she took a lollypop from one of her pockets and handed it to her healed patient. Harry smiled in delight.

"Thank you!"

"Now, you enjoy your lollypop Harry. _Evan_ and I are just going to go over to the corner and talk."

Harry gave her an uncertain look, apparently sensing some of the tension in the room. Evan gave him a reassuring smile.

"It'll be fine Harry."

The child finally nodded, turning his attention back to unwrapping his sweet. Alice and Harry made their way over to the desk in the corner where Alice proceeded to put up a silencing charm. She stood there, hands on hips, staring at him for some time. Finally growing uncomfortable with the silence, Evan spoke.

"So?"

"So," she said back sternly, "Care to tell me just why you're here with Mr Potter when he is supposed to be living with his relatives in the muggle world?"

"I kind of adopted him," he explained.

That seemed to surprise the woman and she stared at him with an expression he couldn't quite place.

"How on earth did you manage that?" she whispered.

"I'm his cousin," he lied awkwardly, "I recently found out. The good for nothing muggles he lived with signed him over quite happily."

She gave him a strange look but much to his relief must have been too distracted by the 'good for nothing muggles' comment to pick up his lie with her empathic abilities, as she said nothing further on the topic.

"What do you mean, signed him over happily?"

He sighed, running a frustrated hand through his hair. For some reason he felt like he could trust this woman but at the same time it wasn't really his story to tell. If Harry felt anything like he did then he would probably hate for someone else to know about how the Dursleys had treated him, and he was not about to betray the boy by telling his secrets. Alice however, looked quite determined to get an answer out of him so he explained vaguely.

"His muggle guardians were very magic-phobic, so they were happy to be able to give him up."

Unfortunately this seemed to not be enough information.

"Did they mistreat him?" she demanded to know.

It suddenly occurred to him that this whole situation was none of her business. What right she had to ask such personal questions of a patient? Angrily he asked her just that.

"I have a right to ask," she said indignantly, poking a finger at his chest, "Because I am his g-"

Whatever she was about to say he wasn't sure as she suddenly stopped, making a low gulping sound in the back of her throat. He looked on confused as she then turned an angry red before giving a very defeated sigh and burying her face in her hands. He was more that a little worried at her sudden change in attitude.

"Alice," he said, resting a tentative hand on her shoulder, "Are you alright?"

She let her hands drop from her face and looked from the hand on her shoulder and then to his face. A soft smile crossed her lips and she took the hand from her shoulder, squeezing it gently in hers before releasing it.

"Yes dear, I'll be fine. I do appreciate your concern though, truly I do. This is just a" she searched for the right word, "_Difficult_, a difficult situation for me. Oh, but I can see that I've only confused you further. Don't you go worrying your head over it though, I'll be fine."

"Okay," he said though still uncertain, "If you're sure."

"I am positive."

He nodded. In the silence that followed she decided to take a seat at one of the chairs in front of the desk, indicating for Evan to do the same. They both sat there and looked over to Harry. The little boy had obviously managed to unwrap his sweet as the stick end of the lollipop stuck out from his mouth as he sucked on it happily. He sat cross legged on the patient's bed, playing with the wrapper and folding it into a rather lopsided plane.

Evan glanced over to Alice and was surprised to see a soft expression on her face, and a fond smile on her lips. If he didn't know better he would have thought she knew the boy. Finally she turned her attention to the back to him, although she still threw Harry the occasional glance.

"He seems happy enough," she said.

"I hope so."

"How long have you had him for?"

"Almost a month now."

"And how have things been going?"

At first he wasn't sure what to say but her honest curiosity and friendly expression, not to mention the fact that he really wanted to talk to someone about it, had him answering her question.

"I think I'd be lost without Libby and the other house-elves."

"Libby" she seemed to be thinking before her expression brightened then turned curious, "Oh, Libby! You're living at Potter Manor?"

He gave her a surprised look.

"Yes, how did you guess?"

"Oh, I became friends with Lily Potter – or Evans as it was back then – in my Hogwarts days. And my husband Frank was on friendly terms with James as well. We were invited to dinner a few times at the Manor and I remember meeting Libby a time or two. She is a fantastic cook as I recall."

"Tell me about it," he gave an appreciative groan, "That elf single-handedly keeps us properly fed."

"I'll bet she does," Alice said with a light laugh.

"She _has_ been great. All of the elves have been very helpful. Honestly," he paused before forcing himself to continue, "I don't know if I'm really cut out for this whole looking after a child thing."

"Why is that?" she asked, letting him speak but not prodding him to do so, which he greatly appreciated.

"It not that I don't want Harry with me, never that. I love that little boy to bits, it just – I worry that maybe I'm not good enough. I've never really been around children much before and I guess I'm afraid I'll mess up or something. Merlin, Libby even had to remind me to set a bedtime. If it wasn't for her I probably would have let him stay up half the night, not thinking a thing of it. I'm hopeless."

This time it was his turn to bury his face in his hands. Second later however, Alice had taken them and pulled them down, holding them clasped in her own.

"Evan," she called his name and he looked up hesitantly only to find her smiling at him, "Every first time parent has their doubts. It's perfectly normal. What you need to remember is that it is okay to make mistakes. It's expected even, that's how you learn."

"Really?" he asked, wanted desperately to believe her.

"Really," she assured him, "Let me ask you something. Do you care about Harry? Do you want him to be safe and happy?"

"Of course," he replied automatically and she grinned cheerily.

"Well that's the most important thing," she chirped, then gave his hands as squeeze and released them.

Harry stared at the cheerful woman before smiling brightly

"Thank you. That's really been bothering me and it's nice to be able to talk to someone."

"Don't you have anyone you can talk to?"

"Actually, neither Harry nor I have any friends here at all," he replied honestly.

"Really?" she looked surprised, "Well then, I must extend an invitation to you both to come for a visit sometime."

"You don't need to do that."

"Nonsense," she said in a manner that allowed no objection, "I'd love to have you. Besides, I'm sure Harry would like a boy his age to play with. I'm sure him and my son Neville will get along brilliantly."

At her declaration something that had been niggling in the back of his mind began bothering him even more. His face scrunched up in thought. Suddenly it hit him. Here was a woman named Alice who had a husband named Frank and son Harry's age named Neville. What were the chances of that happening twice, especially considering what a small community the wizarding world actually was? But she said she was Healer _Smyth_. Snapping his gaze back to Alice who was looking at him curiously, he posed a question.

"What's your surname?"

She blinked, "Longbottom. Why do you ask?" to which his mouth dropped in surprise.

"But I thought it was Smyth."

"Oh, no. You see a cousin of my late husband also works at St Mungos. The both of us are quite similar in appearance too, so when I first left the Auror Department and became a healer quite a number of people would mistake one of us for the other. Of course it didn't help at all that we both went by 'Healer Longbottom'. Anyways it eventually got to the stage where I decided to simply go by my maiden name at work to avoid some confusion."

He just nodded at the explanation, stuck on the fact that this was Alice Longbottom and what that meant.

"You're Harry's godmother," he blurted out.

Alice's eyes went wide in surprise and her hands flew to her mouth.

"You know," she whispered before her voice rose, "Yes I am his godmother. Oh Merlin, I can say it. Godmother, godmother. I am Harry's godmother. Oh you don't know how wonderful it is to say that."

He was taken aback by the emotion the woman was showing and the tears in her eyes.

"Why is it so wonderful?" he asked, drawing her attention back to the conversation.

"It's a secrecy spell. I was placed under one that stops me from claiming Harry is my godson unless I know the person already knows."

He recalled what she had said a few minutes ago. '_I have a right to ask because I am his g-_'. And then she made a strange noise as though swallowing her words. Which, he reflected, is likely exactly what the spell had made her do.

"Why on earth would anyone do that?" he asked aloud and watched her expression darken.

"To stop me from taking custody of him after Lily and James were killed. So that I couldn't object to him being taken to live with his muggle relatives."

"Who would do that?"

"It was D-, D-," she let out a frustrated scream.

The way she had gulped off her words was familiar.

"Another secrecy spell?"

She nodded, "So I can't tell who did it."

But she didn't need to. He had a feeling he knew exactly would do such a horrible thing.

"It was Dumbledore wasn't it?" he asked angrily and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Yes! Yes it was Dumbledore. Dumbledore, Dumbledore, Dumbledore!"

Evan sat fuming. How dare the old man do this? Would he stop at nothing to keep Harry under his control?

"Thank you," Alice's teary voice brought his attention back to her, "You don't know how wonderful it is to be able to tell someone these secrets."

He shook his head, "It's nothing. I'm just sorry that these spells are on you in the first place."

"You're a good boy Evan," she said looking at him seriously, straight in the eye.

"Er, thank you," he blushed at the compliment.

"Well, just look at me, weeping all over the place," she gave a short laugh, rubbing at her eyes, "Now, how about that visit?"

"Sure, it sounds like fun."

"Well, Neville and I are visiting his grandmother this weekend so how about the Sunday after the coming one? You can come at around lunchtime. I'll key you both into the wards and you both can just floo right over. Our address is 'Longbottom Manor'."

He agreed and then she dropped the silencing charm they had been speaking under. And glance over at Harry showed the boy had fallen asleep on the hospital bed, a finished lollypop stick and folded plane shaped wrapper on the pillow beside him. In quick order the rubbish had found its way to the bin and Alice was waving goodbye to Evan who headed towards the floo room, a sleeping Harry curled up in his arms.

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	11. Lunch with the Longbottoms

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I had included review responses but some helpful reviewers directed me to where it says doing so is against rules. So, from now on if you want to know something about the story - even if someone else has already asked - you'll have to ask for yourself and I'll be sure to respond. For now though, enjoy the new chapter._

**Chapter 11 – Lunch with the Longbottoms**

– _Sun, 13/3/1988_ –

The next nine days fairly flew by. Harry's behaviour had toned down a bit in the days following his trip to the hospital. Evan was worried at first at seeing the boy revert to being quiet and overly shy. Fortunately – or unfortunately depending on your point of view – the change didn't last long.

A few days later Harry was laughing and screaming, playing around the Manor just as before, performing all sorts of semi-dangerous tricks which had Evan in an almost constant state of near heart attack. He had also taken a fanatical liking to the word 'no' and delighted in stubbornly refusing to do anything his cousin told him to do.

It was driving the elder boy insane but he still didn't want to do anything to discourage his charge's confident behaviour so he let him get away with it. Libby could be seen throwing him disapproving looks whenever such situations occurred but he really didn't know what else to do.

Soon enough though, Sunday the thirteenth rolled around and they were expected at Longbottom Manor for lunch. He had sat Harry down a few nights ago and explained about Alice and Neville and exactly who Alice was.

"Alice Longbottom is your godmother," he explained.

"Godmother," his head cocked to the side in question, "What's a godmother?"

"Well, if for instance something happened to me, you would probably go to live with her."

This had been the wrong explanation however as Harry immediately began panicking, thinking Evan would be leaving him. For all his seeming confidence and misbehaviour the younger boy could still be quite vulnerable about such things. After assuring the tearful boy that no, he did not intend to be going anywhere, he thought of another way to explain it.

"I guess it means that she's going to be an important person in your life."

"Godmother, does that mean she'll be like a mother?"

"Maybe more like an aunt," at the worried look he amended, "But a fun one. Nothing like Aunt Petunia."

"Oh," he looked relieved then thoughtful, "I think I'd like that. Besides, she's really nice. She gave me a lollypop."

He was glad Harry had decided to like her since with his recent attitude it could have gone either way. Not that it would have mattered, he reflected looking down at the boy beside him. An hour before they were to leave he had started getting nervous and shy. When he had asked what was wrong he had admitting to being worried they might not like him.

"Well I know for a fact that Alice already adores you and as for Neville, I'm sure you'll both get along fine," he had said.

That seemed to relax the child a bit but he was still being quiet and nervous. Finally however, it was time to go. Evan led Harry to the entrance hall where they stood before the fireplace.

"Now, do you remember how the floo works?" Harry nodded his head, "Okay, I'll throw in the powder and then we'll both step in."

He took a pinch of floo powder from the urn that Tilly – who was seeing them off – held out to him. He threw it into the fire and stepped in, holding out his arms for Harry.

"That's it. Hold on tight now."

Little arms linked around his waist, and he reciprocated, holding the boy firmly against him.

"Longbottom Manor," he called clearly and they flooed away.

They arrived in a swirl of green flames and Evan could proudly say that he let neither himself nor Harry fall. Not to say that it hadn't been a close thing. Looking at the soot covering their clothes he gave a quick wave of his wand, tidying them up with a cleaning charm.

"Good afternoon sirs," a high-pitched voice announced.

Harry saw the house-elf first and gave a shy wave.

"Good morning," Evan said then introduced them both, "I'm Evan Potter and this is my cousin Harry."

He said the latter to remind Harry to keep to the cover story. Fortunately he seemed to catch on as he gave his elder a serious nod earning a small smile in return.

"Oh, wonderful. Mistress Alice and Master Neville is looking forward to youse coming. Follow Denny and he will show honoured guests to the parlour."

The little elf then hurriedly skipped over to a door, holding it open for them. As they followed, Evan took the opportunity to look around. They had arrived in what he assumed to be the Manor's entrance hall. Unlike his own home which was done in marble coloured black and whites with accents of red and gold, Longbottom Manor's entrance was done in browns and greens with silver detailing. The floor was of deeply polished timber as was the staircase, which was carpeted in a dark forest green. Tapestries of forests and battles as well as various old weapons and shields adorned the walls.

The door Denny ushered them through led down a short hallway and then through another door into the parlour. This room was bright, decorated in yellows and blues and with large windows. Portraits of garden scenes hung from the walls. All in all Longbottom Manor seemed a bit more modest than Potter Manor, but still spoke of great wealth all the same.

Denny indicated for the two of them to take a seat on a cushioned couch, done in sunshine yellow.

"Visitors be seated. Denny will tell the Mistress of youse's arrival. Would guests like refreshments?"

Evan shook his head and politely declined and then the elf was gone with a 'pop'. Now that they were alone he looked down to see how Harry was doing. The boy seemed unable to sit still, fidgeting nervously and playing with a lose thread on his pants whilst he nibbled on his bottom lip. With a smile he ruffled the child's dark hair.

"Hey!"

Harry's hands shot up, trying to fix the mess he'd made. He just grinned unrepentantly in reply, glad to have distracted him. Just then the doors to the parlour opened. Both green eyed boys looked up, watching as Alice Longbottom walked in with a smile. Walking by her side was a younger boy who could only have been Neville.

Evan was immediately surprised by the boy's appearance. He reminded him very little of the Neville he remembered in his world. The only similarities seemed to be in his light brown hair, blue eyes and somewhat in his facial structure, although this boy's face showed far less chubbiness than the one he remembered. For that matter his entire form seemed less chubby. Not to say he was skinny, more that he was average and showed promise of growing into a muscular man in years to come. He stood at average height, although that made him much taller than the tiny Harry, and he carried himself with a confident, almost arrogant air. That was the most surprising part of all. His world's Neville Longbottom had been shy and timid, prone to breaking into stutters and tripping over his own feet. He wondered at such a difference in him merely from being raised by his mother instead of his grandmother.

"Evan, Harry," Alice greeted, surprising them both equally with a hug, "I'm so glad you came."

"Well thank you for inviting us," he said, managing to get over his shock enough to remember his manners.

"Not a problem. Now, I would like you both to meet my son Neville. Neville, this is the boy who I've told you about, Harry Potter. And this is his cousin Evan Potter."

Neville gave them both a distracted nod, most of his attention on Harry. Evan recognised from experience the glances the boy directed towards his charge's forehead, looking for the famous scar. Alice obviously noticed the direction of his gaze also as she gave him a slight nudge and a pointed gaze, as though reminding him of something. Neville immediately stopped staring and instead gave them both a once over, as though deciding whether they were worth his time. It seemed he approved of them both however as he then gave them both a smile.

"Pleasure to meet you both," he said politely.

For his part, Evan was disconcerted by the boy's behaviour. It reminded him uncomfortably of the superior manner of Draco Malfoy and he feared that Harry might react the same way to Neville as he had reacted to the Slytherin boy in his dimension. On second thought however, he remembered that his original dislike for Malfoy had stemmed more from the maliciousness in the boy than the haughtiness. Neville seemed to lack the malice although he was not at all lacking in a sense of self-importance.

"Well, Nora has cooked up a lovely lunch for us. Neville sweeting, why don't you show Harry to the dining room."

Harry gave Evan an uncertain look. He nodded encouragingly and the boy turned around to nervously follow Neville who was waiting impatiently by the door. The two younger boys hurried off, Alice and Evan following behind at a more sedate pace.

Lunch turned out to be as delicious as Alice had predicted. Nora, the Longbottom kitchen elf, was a brilliant cook although not – as Harry had innocently stated – as good as Libby. Their host had agreed in a hushed whisper, although she made him promise not to tell Nora less they hurt her feelings to which Harry gave a solemn nod.

The younger Potter boy opened up during the meal. Thankfully Evan's momentary fears turned out to be baseless as he seemed to hit it off with Neville. He did get the impression however that Harry wanted several times to roll his eyes at his new friend's more snobbish comments. Lunch was just winding down to a close and Neville brought up the topic of flying.

"I'm quite a good flyer of course," Neville boasted, "Not a natural unfortunately but I work quite hard at it and I've really gotten very good."

Evan had had to resist the urge to snort at the very idea of a Neville being in any way competent with a broomstick. Harry on the other hand was just confused.

"Flying?" he had asked and Neville had given him a look of disbelief.

"Yes. You know, on a broom."

"On a broom?" now it was Harry's turn to show disbelief, "Do you have black cats and pointed hats as well, and cackle over cauldrons."

"Well some people have black cats," Neville sounded perplexed, "And I have a few pointed hats and there are cauldrons in the potions room in the Manor's dungeons. Why we would cackle over them though I don't know."

Clearly neither of the Longbottoms seemed to understand the reference and Evan had to resist the urge to snort once again. Harry gave his cousin a look as if to ask 'is he for real?'. When he nodded his eyes grew quite round and his mouth hung open in a round 'o' of surprise. Deciding to fill their host in on the joke he explained the idea of the muggle stereotypical witch.

"So do you fly too Evan?" Harry asked and he nodded.

"I love it. It's one of the things I'm really good at."

"A natural are you?" Alice asked and he nodded again, "I'm not surprised. It seems to be a Potter family trait. No doubt Harry will be too when he learns to fly."

"Do you fly too ma'am?" Harry asked her.

"I do on occasion. I'm fairly average at it though. And do call me by my first name dear."

Harry nodded then frowned in thought.

"Should I call you Alice or Aunty Alice," he asked, to the woman's surprise, "Evan told me that a godmother is like a special Aunt."

Evan reddened a little as Harry explained and the woman turned her gaze on him. She seemed to take no offence however and even seemed a little teary-eyed.

"I think I should love for you to call me Aunty Alice."

"O-oh," Neville stage whispered, "She'll drown us in tears if we're not careful."

They all laughed.

"What about Evan?"

"What about Evan, Harry dear?" Alice asked

"Well he doesn't have any real aunts either but he is my cousin, so can he call you Aunty Alice too?" he asked innocently.

Evan blushed in embarrassment, wanting to shush the boy.

"Harry I don't-"

"Of course!" Alice interrupted cheerfully, "You shall both call me Aunt Alice."

With that she ruffled his hair much as he had Harry's not so long ago. With a pout he reached up to fix it, catching the smug 'now you know what it's like' look from his younger self across the table. Remembering what she had just said, he tried to object a time or two. She cut him off every time however, and in such a no-nonsense manner that he finally conceded. Besides, he could admit – even if only to himself – that the idea of having an honorary aunt who actually liked him was quite appealing.

After lunch was finally finished Neville dragged Harry – who he was pleased to see was acting much less shy – off to see his room, leaving their guardians behind to talk over tea.

"So, how have things been since I last saw you?"

Deciding to be honest he gave a tremendous sigh. Alice looked at him worriedly.

"Honestly, not so good. At the Dursleys – that's Harry's muggle relatives – he was expected to be quiet and keep out of the way. We'd made a lot of progress with getting him to open up though. After his stair stunt and the broken arm he was quiet for a bit and had me worried but fortunately it didn't last long."

"So what's the problem dear?"

"The problem is that not only is he no longer quiet, he makes it a point to be loud. And troublesome. And misbehaving. He especially likes the word 'no'," he bemoaned, causing Alice to smile.

"And how have you been dealing with that?"

"Well, I haven't really. I just don't want him to take it the wrong way and revert back to how he was at the Dursleys."

Alice gave and understanding 'ahh' sound and put down her teacup, leaning back comfortably in her chair and looking him in the eye.

"I'm going to tell you a story dear. When I lost my Frank I was of course devastated. Not only for myself but also for Neville, who would never get to know his father. I was an Auror back then but it's such a dangerous job and the idea of something happening, and my Neville being left all alone, was too much. I immediately quit and focussed on becoming a Healer instead.

"Now as time passed I admit I was not as firm with Neville as I perhaps should have been. I just couldn't bear being too hard on him, especially as he was growing up without his daddy. Unfortunately, and this is the important part dear, that really was not the best course of action. You may notice that my son is a little…" she searched for the word.

"Overly confident," he supplied diplomatically and she snorted.

"Oh, don't be silly. I may be his mother and I do love him, but I'm not blind. I was trying to decide between 'arrogant' and 'full of himself'," she just laughed at his shocked look, "Don't be so surprised, I'm not one to let fondness for a person cloud my judgment. Besides, he's a good boy for all that he thinks far too much of himself.

"Anyway, when he was younger I let that boy get away with anything, not having the heart to tell him off. That's the main reason he's like he is. Eventually his gran took me aside and she said to me, 'Alice, if you don't take that boy in hand then I'm going to', or something to that effect. She gave me a long talk and explained that just because he didn't have his father was no excuse to let him run wild," she leaned forward and gave him a serious look, "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"I think so. You're saying that I should be firmer with him and not use the Dursleys as an excuse to let him do whatever he wants."

She nodded, "Exactly dear. Now I can tell those muggles were worse than you're letting on. Partly because as I've said before, you make a terrible liar, and partly because I can read your emotions when you talk about them. The change you describe in young Harry is a little extreme and I think part of it may be him testing his boundaries. He's trying to learn what is acceptable for him in his new home, so you need to make sure you let him know when he crosses a line."

Evan nodded, taking the advice in. He looked up at Alice and gave her a grateful look.

"Thank you."

"There's no need to thank me."

"Oh, but there is. There really is. He's been such a handful lately. If things kept going on like they have been – well, I hate to even think of what a terror he would have turned into."

He gave a shudder and the thought, which caused Alice to chuckle.

"Well, you are most welcome dear. I'm glad to have saved you from such a 'terror', I assure you."

He pouted at her amusement. They continued talking and drinking their tea for some time. Eventually the conversation came around to the topic of Neville's nanny.

"Nanny Adella is a lovely woman but she really is getting on a bit. She's just recently given me notice that she will be retiring soon. She has promised to stay on long enough for me to find a replacement though."

"I'm sure there must be plenty of people willing to baby-sit him while you work. Although, I suppose it would be difficult finding someone you can trust. I know I would never leave Harry with just anyone."

"Look at you; sounding all parental," she cooed and he flushed in embarrassment, "Yes, there is the trust issue. You also have to be sure they're qualified."

"Qualified?"

"Why, for the lessons."

He stared at her blankly and a thought seemed occur to her.

"Harry is getting lessons isn't he?"

"Lessons?" he questioned, shifting uncomfortably.

"Oh, well this just won't do. Every young witch and wizard need lessons, otherwise they'd turn up at Hogwarts barely able to read or write."

"Merlin, you're right! I can't believe I never thought of that," he groaned.

"Oh, don't you worry. You can't be expected to know all this from the start. After all," she gave a cheeky grin, "That's what I'm here for isn't it?"

A snort, "I suppose you'll just have to be, won't you," he said dryly.

"Oh, I've just had a marvellous idea. Why don't we find someone to teach both our boys? They could look after Neville for me but Harry could come over every day for lessons."

"That actually sounds like a good idea," he agreed, "It'll be good for him to have regular contact with someone besides just me and the house-elves; someone his own age."

"Brilliant. We need only find someone then. I have a few contacts…"

As the woman pondered who she knew that might be interested in the job, Evan's mind had another thought. He already knew the perfect person for the job. The man would probably be eager for employment and he knew from experience he made a great teacher. Not to mention he would love to be able to see Harry.

"Remus," he unknowingly murmured aloud, interrupting Alice.

"Remus Lupin?" she asked confused, surprising him.

"Did I say that out loud?" he winced.

"Yes, you did. How do you know Remus?"

"He was a friend of Harry's parents," he stumbled, "I must have heard of him from someone."

"Really, Evan. I'm empathic, remember," she pointed out with a stern look.

Searching desperately for a better excuse, the perfect one came to him.

"The Potters' will! He, ah- he was mention in their will. He was even down as third preference as guardian for Harry."

"Hmm," she hummed, looking at him knowingly, "I know that's not the entire truth, but I'll let it go for now."

"Thanks," he said relieved.

"So, what made you mention Remus's name?"

"Oh, right," he decided to share his idea, "I was just thinking that he'd be the perfect man for the job. I'd definitely trust him and he'd be a good teacher. Plus, I think he'd like spending time with Harry."

Alice looked thoughtful but was nodding her head. A hesitant expression then came across her face.

"I like the idea. But, you should probably know that Remus has- health issues that may stop him from working at times."

"Oh, I already know about that," he blurted out without thinking.

Her gaze became sharp, "You do, do you?"

"Damn, I really need to think before I speak," he muttered to himself, "Er, can we just let this one go as well?"

Sigh, "You know Evan if I didn't _know_ you mean well– well, anyone else would be terribly suspicious of you right now."

"But since you _are_ you, you don't need to be," he said hopefully and sighed in relief as she smiled and rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so you know about Remus's 'furry problem'."

"Yeah, I do. And it really doesn't bother me."

She gave him a brilliant smile at that.

"Wonderful. You didn't strike me as the prejudiced sort, but one can never be too sure with these sorts of things. Well, since you're Harry's guardian and Harry is the boy Remus will most want to see, why don't you write him a letter? Let him know about the offer; that I need a nanny and both our boys need lessons.

"Goodness, I haven't seen him for years. He disappeared off the face of the wizarding world shortly after James, Lily and Sirius died and that whole mess with Pettigrew," she stopped, thinking he might not understand what he was talking about.

"I know all about that. Or at least everything the Daily Prophet published about it."

"Right, well. I can't be certain he'll be willing to come back."

"Not even for Harry?" he asked.

"Well personally, I think he might never have left in the first place if he could have had contact with Harry. But as it was I'm sure Dumbledore would have stopped any attempts he made to do so. I know he did the same to me. Still, I think the fact that James and Lily's boy will be one of his students will clinch it for us."

"I hope so."

"Well, look at the time; we've been taking for over an hour. Why don't we go see what trouble our boy's have gotten into?" she suggested.

..ooOOoo..

Later that night after Harry was tucked into bed, Evan sat in the study with parchment spread before him and an inked quill hovering over the page.

_Dear Remus_

"No," he muttered and erased the salutation, "Too familiar. I need to sound like I don't know him personally"

That in mind, he set his quill back to the page.

_To__ Mr Lupin_

_You most likely don't know me so I shall introduce myself_…

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	12. Somewhere

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I'm afraid this is a very short chapter. Sorry about that but it just seemed to fit best this way. I promise though, that the next one will be back to normal length. Enjoy._

**Chapter 12 – Somewhere**

– _Mon, 14/3/1988_ –

Remus Lupin looked up from his breakfast in surprise as a white snowy owl flew in through his open window. It had been so long since he had had any contact with the wizarding world that the bird caught him quite by surprise. Still, old habits die hard and he found himself automatically untying the letter from the extended leg and feeding the owl some bacon from his plate before he realised what he was doing. Satisfied with the offering, the owl swallowed the food down and flew over to perch atop his refrigerator. It seemed as though it was planning to stay for a time.

Drawing his attention back to the reason for the creature's arrival, he looked down at the thick parchment envelope in his hand, reading the address.

_Mr R. Lupin_

_Somewhere_

He snorted in amusement. Well, he supposed it was accurate enough although how he could be anywhere but 'somewhere' was beyond him. Examining the handwriting showed it to be unfamiliar although the scent on the paper nagged at the back of his memory. And so, curiosity drove him onwards, breaking the envelope open. He pulled the parchment out and unfolded it before beginning to read.

_To __Mr Lupin_

_You most likely don't know me so I shall introduce myself. My name is Evan Potter. I have recently gained custody of my cousin Harry Potter and we are living together at Potter Manor._

_A friend has recently pointed out to me that Harry is of an age where he should be having lessons. Since her nanny/tutor is soon planning to retire we thought it might be a nice idea to find a tutor to teach both of our boys together._

_We are looking for someone who is willing to watch my friend's son whilst she is at work on weekdays and to also tutor both boys for a time each day. I know that you were friends of Lily and James Potter and thought you might be interested in this opportunity to see their son. My friend knows of you as well and she believes you would be a good choice._

_Also, you can rest assured that both of us are aware of your condition and willing to work around it._

_If you are interested in the position, please let me know. I've been told you are living in the muggle world so I am unsure if you are keeping an owl. I have asked my owl, Hedwig, to wait should you need her to send a reply._

_Hope to hear from you soon,_

_Evan Adam Potter._

Hands shaking as he reached the end, he set the letter down on the table. He leaned back in the chair, raising his hands to his mouth and stared at the parchment as if to ensure it was real. A '_hoot_' from behind him brought his attention back to his guest – Hedwig. She was wanting a reply.

Heaving a sigh he stopped to consider everything. His immediate reaction at the thought of seeing his cub again was a definite 'yes!' but he clamped down on the urge – he was not one to be ruled by emotion. He needed to think this through logically.

The first thing that came to mind was 'who is Evan Potter'. As far as he knew Harry was supposed to be the last living member of the family. The most obvious clue was in the fact that they were living at Potter Manor. From what James had told him of the wards, the only way they could get into the house was with the permission of the Head of the Potter Family. That position was supposed to remain unfilled until Harry reached fifteen. That meant someone else had claimed – and successfully might he add – the Headship of the family. Evan Potter must be that somebody.

Another point to note was that this Evan had claimed to be Harry's cousin. The only sibling James had ever had was his older brother Adam. The man had disappeared after Hogwarts causing something of a scandal and had died some years later. He must have had a child before that happened. That fit the story as it would make this Evan first in the line of inheritance.

The second thing that caught his attention was the most obvious; Harry was no longer at the Dursleys. He almost wept in joy at the news. He and a few others who knew the Potters had been quite vociferous in their objections to Harry being placed at the Dursleys. He had heard the stories from Lily of what her sister was like. She was not a good choice to raise a magical child. Unfortunately Dumbledore would not heed their objections.

Dumbledore, he growled low in his throat. He had respected the man once; thought him great and wise and just. That had all changed with the Potters' deaths. First was his insistence on refusing to listen to warnings about the Dursleys. He had at first though the old man didn't believe him. That he thought family would surely welcome family. Then he had made the mistake of mentioning that he was sure the Potters had intended to mention the Dursleys in their will; to mention that they were _never _to be considered as guardians for Harry. He had told the old man that Alice Longbottom was Harry's godmother and should be the one to raise her. That's when the Headmaster's true nature had been revealed.

A secrecy spell! A thrice damned secrecy spell. He was left unable to speak of the Potters' will or their wishes. He was unable to say who Harry's godmother was. There was nothing he could do to help his cub and it was all Dumbledore's doing. Disheartened, he had left the wizarding world behind, running away to live amongst the muggles, vowing never to return. That had been over six years ago.

And now here was a letter from a man claiming to have custody of Harry. How had this stranger managed it? How had he gotten around Dumbledore, for surely the Headmaster would not have agreed to let him leave the Dursleys? Especially after all the trouble he had gone through to isolate the boy-who-lived from the wizarding world. He had even set up wards that prevented any other witches and wizards apart from those he allowed to come anywhere near where Harry now lived. He would know, having – in a fit of desperation – tried to simply abduct the boy from the muggles. It was as though there were an invisible dome surrounding the entire neighbourhood. The ward had been too powerful for him to cross or disable. It had been after that incident that he had decided to leave the wizarding world.

Leaning forwards, he picked up the letter again, reading it over once more. Harry was away from Lily's sister's family and he was being given the opportunity to see him. His choice was obvious.

He got up and retrieved a piece of paper and pen – not having used quill and parchment for some years. He set the pen to paper and began writing.

_Mr Evan Potter_…

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	13. Diagon Alley Disaster

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Okay so I have to important things to say. Firstly, in order to make up for the abysmally tiny chapter that was number twelve, this chapter will be super-duper long, compared to the previous one. Hopefully everyone's happy to hear that!_

_Secondly – and more importantly, in my opinion – I topped 100 reviews! YAY!! Y'know I never realized just how fantastic it could feel to receive reviews until I started posting my own story. Now every time I open my email and it says 'review alert' I'm like, WOOHOO. Anyways, thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, it means a lot._

**Chapter 13 – Diagon Alley Disaster**

– _Sun, 20/3/1988_ –

The next week passed, Evan implementing the measures Alice had suggested to him with pleasing results. The first time he had scolded the boy – for refusing to eat his greens – Harry had shocked him by bursting into tears.

"Hey, now. Hush," he had soothed, taking the boy into his arms, "Come on, tell me what's wrong.

"Y-you hate me," the boy had sobbed, "I'm g-going to have t-to go live with the Dur-Dursleys again, aren't I?"

He had of course assured his young charge that that was most certainly not true. He didn't hate him at all and never would. In fact he loved him very much. That had quieted Harry immediately as he stared up at him with wide hopeful eyes.

"Y-you love me?" he asked in a shocked tone, never having heard the words directed at him before.

"Of course I do," he had assured him, "We're family."

At that Harry's face had broken into a wide grin and he had whispered back a shy "I love you too" and the earlier scolding was forgotten.

The second time he had to take his cousin to task it had been for dragging his mattress from his room, and sliding on it down the stairs. He hadn't cried that time although his eyes had become wet and his lower lip trembled. He had strengthened himself against the boy's tears and explained to him gently yet firmly that he loved him, but such behaviour was unacceptable. He had warned him that next time he misbehaved, he would be sent to his room.

The third time he had to rebuke Harry, he had been running in the house and knocked over a vase. He had led the boy – who had been too shocked to argue – directly to him room and locked him in there for an hour. When the time was up, a much repentant little boy had emerged from the room and apologised for his behaviour.

Since then, Harry's behaviour had been much more restrained. He was quieter, but fortunately not in the manner the Dursleys had enforced. Instead he seemed to settle into a mostly calm temperament that seemed much more natural in him. There were a few incidents where he had to punish him but far fewer than expected. All in all, life had been much calmer.

As the next Sunday rolled around, the Potter's were once again invited to lunch at Longbottom Manor. They flooed out at precisely twelve o'clock and were led by Denny to the sitting room once again whilst he went to fetch their hosts.

Neville and Harry both seemed quite happy to see each other, Evan had been pleased to see. Both had raced off to play together after they had all had lunch and Evan and Alice both found themselves relaxing over tea as they had the last time, discussing what had happened since they had seen each other last.

"I took your advice about Harry's behaviour."

"Oh, how did it go?"

"Brilliantly."

He went on to explain in more detail. At the end Alice seemed quite pleased.

"Well I'm glad it worked out for you."

"I'd bet that I'm even gladder, being that I have to live with him," he said before he remembered something, "Oh! Remus responded to my letter."

"Really," her eyes lit with expectation, "Well do tell; what did he say?"

"Well the short of it is that he's _very_ eager about the idea; said he would love the chance to see Harry again."

"Wonderful," she clapped her hands in delight, "Nanny Adella will be delighted to know we've found someone so promptly. We'll have to decide on a rate of pay and such and let him know first. That can be done later however. On the subject of money, I've a more important question. You do have some don't you?"

"Er, yes. I inherited the Potter vault and all," he answered, rather nonplussed by the question.

"Then why dear, do the both of you boys insist on wearing those awful rags?" she demanded to know, an eyebrow raised in question.

Completely thrown, he blinked in confusion, looking down at the 'awful rags' to which she referred. It was a valid question. He had plenty of money and he needn't worry over the Dursleys finding out about it anymore, so why hadn't he bought some more appropriate clothing. He supposed the main reason was that it had never occurred to him. He was used to wearing Dudley's old hand-me-downs, several sizes too large. Now though, he had Harry to think of. It was his responsibility to look after him. To provide adequate food, shelter and clothing. And now that he though about it, these old clothes were not nearly adequate enough for his Harry. Resolute in his decision, he looked up at Alice's still questioning face.

"You know, you're absolutely right. I never really thought about it before but now that I have – well, I'll have to take the both of us shopping as soon as possible."

"Good," she nodded in approval, "What say we go now?"

"Now?" he blinked.

"Why not? There's plenty of day left. We can floo to Diagon Alley. Has Harry been before?"

"No, not yet."

"Then it'll be a treat for him, won't it?"

"Yes," he nodded, liking the idea, "Why not? We'll have to cover up Harry's scar so we aren't mobbed though."

"Not to worry dear. I'm sure Neville will loan him a hat."

"Great. I just have to floo back to the manor and fetch my Gringotts key. Is it alright to leave Harry with you whilst I-"

"Don't be silly dear," she cut him off and waved a hand dismissively, "It's no trouble at all. Denny!"

'Pop'

"Yes, Mistress Alice?"

"Denny, would you show Evan to the nearest fireplace so he can use the floo?"

"Of course Mistress."

When he flooed back to Longbottom Manor some ten minutes later, the three were waiting there in the entrance hall for him. Harry immediately hurried over to him, a dark green brimless cap topped with a golden tassel covering his head and scar.

"Is it true?" he asked eagerly, bouncing on the balls of his feet, "Are we really going to a magical shopping place and am I really getting brand new clothes, just for me?"

"Sure are," he nodded with a grin, "I'll be getting some clothes for myself too."

"Wow," the boy breathed, as though unable to believe his luck.

"We should probably use an alias for Harry," Alice suggested and he immediately agreed.

"What's an alias?" Neville asked.

"It's a pretend name," Harry told his friend.

"Like a spy?" the boy asked, clearly liking the idea, "Wicked! What shall we call you? I know, how about Bartholomew or Fido or Dummy," he snickered.

"No way," Harry's little nose scrunched up, "I want something good like… I know, Bob!"

Evan and Alice shared an amused glance at the incongruent name but Harry seemed so pleased with himself that they nodded all the same.

The four of them flooed to Diagon Alley. Alice went first with Neville and Evan took Harry directly after. The two of them only just managed to stay upright, Alice having to step forward and steady them. As Evan sent a quick _Scourgify_ at the both of them, his charge stared about in curiosity.

"Huh, wizards really do wear dresses," he said quietly but Evan overheard and sent the boy an amused questioning look.

"Dresses?"

"I asked Neville when we first met why he was wearing a dress. He got mad and said it was a robe and lots of wizards wear them," he gave a sheepish look, "I didn't believe him till just now."

Before he could comment Neville came forward and grabbed Harry's hand, dragging him towards the back door.

"Come on Ha- er, Bob. Let's go. I want to see the broomsticks."

"Wait for us you two," Alice called as the both of them hurried to keep up.

After reaching the boys in the courtyard behind the Leaky Cauldron they both told their charges off and made them promise not to run off ahead again. Then, Evan tapped his wand in the appropriate pattern on the brick wall and it slid away. All three of them watched Harry's face, wanting to see his reaction. They were all quite amused to see his eyes bulge and his jaw fall open.

"Cool, huh?" Evan asked, snapping him from his daze.

"Yeah, this is brilliant."

They all made their way down the street, headed towards Gringotts. Neville appeared unimpressed and Evan could see Harry was trying to look the same. The slight widening of his eyes and they way his gaze darted about gave him away however.

They finally reached the bank and ascended the stairs. Harry started upon seeing the goblins and looked to Evan for reassurance.

"Goblins," he explained, "Just remember to be polite."

He nodded hastily.

Harry had a ball on the cart ride, whooping along with Neville. The goblin in their cart did not seem annoyed at the behaviour as Evan had expected. Rather, he seemed to enjoy having customers who so appreciated the trip. The young Potter boy's jaw had once again hit the floor when the vaults had been opened, shocked at the amount of gold.

Evan was somewhat disappointed not to have seen Jarnack anywhere about. Rockwell _had_ said he was only working the tellers that day to make up numbers however, so he should have expected it. Soon enough though, they left Gringotts, moneybags filled.

Their first stop was Madam Malkin's, although Alice did have to practically drag all three boys – drooling – away from the Quidditch store – even Harry, who had only the vaguest idea what a broomstick could do. As they entered the clothes shop, the bell tinkled and a squat witch came out from the back of the store to greet them.

"Good afternoon, I'm Madam Malkin- oh, Alice! Good to see you again. How have you and young Neville been?"

"Hilda, good to see you too," she gave the woman a hug, "We've both been great."

"That's good. So what can I do for you all?"

"These are friends of ours; Evan and Bob. As you can see, they're both desperately in need of a completely new wardrobe."

"Well they've come to the right place then," she replied, sending their current outfits a distasteful look, "Follow me to the back and we'll get you both measured up."

The four followed the woman to the back of the store where the Potters were directed to stand on stools. Madam Malkin seemed to be running the store alone today since she measured first one then the other herself, rather than calling for an assistant. After both had been measured she waved her wand, causing a number of items of clothing to zip from their hangings about the store and deposit themselves in two piles before her customers.

"The pile on the left should all be in your size sir," she told Evan, tucking her wand away, "And the pile on the right will all fit you young Bob."

Harry, who had stared wide-eyed at the display of magic, turned to his cousin with eager eyes.

"Well, what are you waiting for," Evan said with a smile, "Try them on and pick out the ones you like."

"Really, I get to choose?"

"Absolutely," he gave a nod, "It's entirely your choice."

The boy gave a huge grin and dived into the pile of clothes. The elder Potter then did the same, though at a much more sedate pace. Seeing his young charge being directed to a curtained off changing area with an armful of clothes, he picked out a few outfits to try on himself and got Madam Malkin to show him somewhere to change also.

Over the next half hour he tried on a number of outfits, some going to a 'no pile' and others to a 'buy pile'. As he tried on the last outfit and deemed it a 'no' he looked over the items he had decided to buy.

He had selected a number of both casual and open robes in mostly greens, blacks, blues and greys. There were also several shirts in the same colours as well as white and brown. Some of them were button-down and the rest were a belted tunic style that was popular in the wizarding world with both long and short sleeves. Lastly, for pants, he selected a few in darker colours as well as two pairs of muggles jeans that had somehow found their way into the shop.

Satisfied with his choices he made his way over to where Alice was sitting with the store owner. Both looked up as he sat down also.

"Aunt Alice, Madam Malkin," he greeted them politely.

"All done then dear?"

"Yes. The pile on that table is the ones I'm buying," he indicated and both women nodded, "Where's Neville gone off to then?"

"Oh, he's helping Bob out I think," Alice said before a laugh was heard from the changing area, "That would be him."

"I was wondering what all the laughing was earlier. What's it all about?"

The two women shared an amused look and Madam Malkin even gave a short giggle.

"He's just enjoying helping your young charge out I think," Hilda told him.

"You really ought to have thought a bit more carefully before you promised him he could choose whatever outfits he liked," Alice said with a smirk.

Before he had a chance to ask just what was mean by that comment, the two boys emerged from the changing area, each carrying an armful of clothes. Strangely, there seemed to be only bright, eye-catching outfits in Harry's arms and sedate or conservative outfits being carried by Neville. An inkling of the reason for the laughter entered his mind and was confirmed as the Longbottom boy dumped his pile whilst Harry brought his over to Evan, grinning widely.

"I'm done."

He gaped for a moment at the clothes, a black and yellow checkered pair of pantaloons catching his eye. At the sound of muffled laughter from the others he couldn't help himself and broke into snickers, setting the others off. After a time, the bewildered look on his younger self's face helped him to get control of himself once again.

"I don't get it," Harry asked, forehead wrinkled in confusion, "Why does everyone keep laughing?"

"Er- never mind that. Just, umm- are you sure those are the ones you want?"

"Aunty Alice asked the same thing," he gave an annoyed sigh, "And yes, I am sure."

Evan nodded, biting his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He should have expected such a thing. Harry was still a child after all and followed the logic of one. His thoughts upon being able to choose a wardrobe for himself – for the first time ever – were probably to get as far away from Dudley's hand-me-downs as possible. That meant bright colours instead of the faded ones and outrageous styles to counter the 'normal' ones. He was also unsurprised to find a number of items were quite form-fitting, very much unlike the clothes he usually swum in.

"Alright then," he gave Harry a supportive grin, "I think you've made some good choices. Let's go pay for them all, shall we."

Ignoring the perplexed and amused looks at his 'good choices' comment, he scooped up his own clothes and led Harry to the front of the shop, depositing both piles on the counter. The others followed, Madam Malkin bustling after them and immediately ringing up their purchases. Once the price was given and he had paid for their new wardrobes he picked out an outfit to wear for the rest of their trip and suggested Harry do the same. The other three waited in the front room of the shop whilst they got changed.

He emerged from the back of the shop wearing black trousers and a cream coloured button-down shirt with an open dark blue robe over the top. Alice looked him over once and nodded in approval of his choices. Then the four of them waited expectantly for Harry to return.

When the boy finally joined them, they all had to muffle their laughter. Neville however, didn't succeed for very long and was soon rolling on the ground. Harry threw his friend a strange look.

"What's wrong with him?" he muttered to himself.

Harry had chosen to wear the black and yellow checkered pantaloons, topped with a skin tight singlet in fluoro pink. Each was bad enough on their own; together however, they clashed horribly. Harry seemed completely oblivious to this fact however and none of them had the heart to tell him. Instead they all nodded as though they thought his outfit very snappy.

"A lovely fit," said Madam Malkin.

"A wonderfully unique style," Alice said with a hiccup.

"Very colourful," Evan managed to say straight faced.

"Yeah, it's good mate," Neville said, before falling to the ground again in laughter.

Harry grinned at the seemingly praising words then shot his friend rolling on the ground a worried.

"Are you alright, Nev?"

"Y-yeah," the boy gathered himself, giving only a few brief chuckles, "I'm fine."

"Well, we're done here then," Alice announced, taking control of the situation, "Next I say we should get you two some new shoes and perhaps some new glasses."

Evan nodded and took Harry's hand, leading him out of the store after Alice, who was leading Neville. They all waved goodbye to Madam Malkin, before exiting the shop, the bell tinkling behind them.

As they headed down the Alley searching for a good cobbler, a dumpy looking man nearby lost his grip on his newspaper and it went flying, forcing him to chase after it down the street. As it whipped past Harry, his arm snapped out and grabbed it mid-flight. The man caught up with them, puffing and out of breath, as his newspaper was returned to him.

"Well thank you m'boy," he said cheerfully, patting him on the head, "Thing was getting away from me before- well by Merlin!"

Evan, who had been watching the interaction with the others, immediately went on guard as the man froze, his eyes going wide. Looking between the two, he quickly realised what was happening and cursed under his breath. It seemed that sometime during their clothes shopping Harry had taken off his hat and forgotten to put it back on. They were lucky that Madam Malkin had not noticed the famous scar through the boy's fringe. This man however, had messed Harry's hair up when patting him on the head, spotting the lightning bolt scar easily. All this occurred to him in a matter of moments and he stepped forward to act. He was not quick enough however, as the man unfroze and exclaimed aloud.

"It's Harry Potter!"

Pandemonium. That was the only word for it. People heard the shouted declaration and began rushing forward to meet the young hero. They shook his hand and patted his head, as they introduced themselves, wanting to say they had met the famous boy-who-lived.

Evan watched all this in worry, trying to get to Harry through the crowd. The boy's expression had quickly gone from confusion to worry to panic at the reactions of the witches and wizards surrounding him. Evan was vaguely aware of Alice and Neville behind him, also trying to get to Harry in order to help. As two witches jostled each other to get to their hero first, Harry was knocked roughly to the ground. As soon as he saw the tears beginning to fall from his boy's wide green eyes, Evan saw red.

"_Sonorous_. ENOUGH!" his voice boomed, causing people to halt in confusion, "MOVE AWAY FROM THE BOY!"

He waded determinedly through the crowd, throwing _Stupefy_ and _Petrificus Totalus_ curses at anyone who didn't move out of his path fast enough. The mob soon got the idea though, and parted to let him through. As he finally reached Harry's side, the boy saw him and threw himself into his older self's arms, sobbing with leftover fright. The crowd, finally seeing the boy's condition, shifted awkwardly, sending one another guiltily looks.

"YOU ALL SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOUR BEHAVIOUR!" he yelled, the charm still on his voice, "MOBBING A LITTLE BOY LIKE THAT! THE TWO OF US WILL BE LEAVING NOW AND DON'T ANYONE DARE TRY TO STOP ME"

He gave a dangerous glare to those around him then sent a _Finite Incantatem_ at his throat before wrapping both arms around the still-shaking Harry. He made soothing hushing noises to the boy as he strode towards the Leaky Cauldron, the crowd parting once again to let him through.

Walking angrily into the pub, he ignored the curious looks he received. Reaching the fireplace he threw a pinch of floo powder into the flames.

"Longbottom Manor," he stated, quietly so as not to be overheard and they were whisked away.

They appeared in a swirl of flames and – being that Evan's concentration was not at its best – proceeded to tumble to the ground. Fortunately, he managed to twist as he fell so the younger boy landed safely atop him. As they climbed back to their feet and stepped away from the hearth, Denny popped into the room to greet them. As soon as the elf saw they were alone and that Harry was obviously upset, he squeaked in worry.

"Oh dears, is youse alright? How can Denny help? Where is the Mistress and Master? Is they well?"

"Denny," Evan quickly cut him off, "We'll be fine, we just had an incident while we were out. Alice and Neville are fine. I'd imagine they'll catch up soo-"

Before he could finish the fire flared green once again and the Longbottoms emerged from the flames. Upon seeing Harry's still teary face, Alice set Neville down and took the boy into her arms. Evan smiled softly at her fussing, reminded of the motherly hugs he used to receive from Mrs Weasley. He was glad Harry would have someone to fill that role although he was a little saddened that he no longer did.

"And Evan!" she exclaimed suddenly, giving him a one-armed hug also, "Are you alright too? I could tell you were quite worried…"

Or maybe he did, he thought, as she continued to fuss over the both of them. He gave a small smile and reassured her that he was fine but she continued to fret. At a snort he looked over to see Neville rolling her eyes in her mother's direction before noticing he had Evan's attention.

"She gets like this sometimes," he stage whispered, "You just have to let her fuss and get it out of her system."

"Neville!" she said in a scolding tone, although she did release the elder Potter from her grasp, "Well, why don't we go to the sitting room and have a little talk?"

Even though she sounded very in control of the situation she did throw Evan a questioning look. He appreciated that she was deferring to him where it came to Harry. He was after all the boy's guardian. He gave her a nod. Yes, they really did need to have a talk. He should have told Harry of his fame and the reasons behind it sooner but he had wanted the boy to simply enjoy his childhood.

His thoughts froze suddenly, realising what he had just said. He sounded like Dumbledore. That settled it. He needed to fill his younger self in on all the important details of his life. He could start now by explaining his fame. He also needed to warn him away from Dumbledore before the old man got a chance to sink his claws into him. But, that could wait till they got home. One thing at a time and all that. Noticing Alice trying to get his attention, he gave her a questioning look.

"Sorry, I missed that."

"I noticed. Lost in thought hmm? Never mind, we're heading to the sitting room. I've asked Denny to bring milk and cookies. I think comfort food will go over well for this conversation."

He agreed and they all made their way to the room, Harry still carried in Alice's arms. When they finally reached their destination, Harry squirmed out of his honorary Aunt's grasp after giving her a parting hug and curled up next to Evan on a sofa. The Longbottoms took a sofa across from them and sat down, just as a tray of the requested foods and beverages appeared on the table between them. Everyone helped themselves to something as they waited for someone to start the conversation.

"Why did all those people do that?" Harry finally spoke up in a small wavering voice, breaking the silence.

"Harry, I'm afraid I've not told you everything about yourself and your parents. But I promise that stops now. I promise to do my best to always be honest with you from now on. I'm sorry I didn't from the start."

He looked the boy right in the eye as he spoke, wanting him to be able to see his sincerity. Harry stared at him for a moment before giving a nod. Evan exhaled in relief, glad to be forgiven.

"So, what do I need to know?" he asked.

"Well firstly, you're famous in the wizarding world."

Harry's eyes went wide and his gaze travelled from each face, as though trying to confirm the truth of the statement.

"I'm famous?"

"Yes. That's why all those people acted the way they did."

"Not that that's an excuse," Alice added, "Their behaviour was completely unacceptable."

Both Evan and Neville nodded in agreement.

"Yeah they could've hurt you, all crowding around like that," the boy said.

"You knew too?" Harry asked in surprise, "Why didn't you tell me?"

Neville shrugged, "I thought you would've already known. Plus mum said not to make a fuss about it, and she's not someone you cross if you can help it," he gave a shudder at the very thought, which caused Harry to giggle and Alice to harrumph indignantly, "So, I never talked about it."

"Okay then. But _why_ am I famous?" he asked, turning to Evan.

"It all happened when you were really small," he began, "There was a bad wizard who was killing lots of people. He thought that muggles and muggle-borns were inferior to pure-blooded wizards."

"Inferior?"

"That they weren't as good."

"But that's silly."

"Yes dear, it absolutely is," Alice said.

"So this dark wizard, what was he called?"

"His name was Voldemort," Evan said and the other two winced.

Harry gave a perplexed look at the reaction so he continued on, explaining.

"Most people only call him You-Know-Who or He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"But that's even sillier," Harry wrinkled his nose up, "Why would they do that?"

"People were afraid dear," Alice explained, "They were so afraid of You-Know-Who that they feared even to speak his name. Even to this day, wizards and witches fear to say it."

"Yeah, almost no one says V- V- well, you-know-what," Neville added, staring at Evan in slight awe.

"He must've been real bad then," Harry said, wide-eyed.

"He was," Evan conceded, "But it's ridiculous to call him by those silly names. His real name wasn't even Voldemort," more flinching, "But that's not really important right now. Getting back to the story,

"This dark wizard was gaining lots of power and followers, called Death Eaters. One day, shortly before you were born, a prophecy was made."

Alice looked at him surprised.

"You know of the prophecy?"

"Yes, I do. I should've known you'd know it too. Dumbledore told you what it said, I take it?"

"No. Well, yes but-" she shook her head, "It was another of those 'secrets'."

Evan growled, "Doesn't surprise me. Did anyone else know?"

"Harry's parents and Neville's father were also told about it, so they and we could go into hiding. But back to what I was trying to say before; the old man told us _about_ it but he never told us exactly what it said. Do you actually know it?"

A surprised blink, followed by a frown, "Of course he wouldn't have. I shouldn't known better. Yes I do know it. The prophecy went like this,

"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._"

As he finished Alice gasped aloud, looking from Neville to Harry. She gave him a questioning look as though to confirm the words were real and he nodded. She rushed over to give Harry a hug. The boys meanwhile were both a little scared and awed at hearing such an important prophecy, and also confused at its relevance.

Finally the Longbottom woman released her grip and retook her seat, although she was a little teary-eyed. Neville gave her a hug and a worried look.

"It's just- the prophecy said-" she threw Evan a pleading look and he nodded, agreeing to explain.

"The seventh month is July, so the prophecy was concerning a baby born then. At the time, there were two couples expecting babies at the end of July who had also faced Voldemort," flinches again, "Three times and lived."

"Thrice defied him," Alice whispered.

"Yes. The two couples were the Potters and the Longbottoms."

Harry and Neville started in surprise at that and both paled.

"Y-you mean w-we have to kill him?" Harry stuttered.

"No, it can't be!" Neville refused to believe, "He's already dead. Harry killed him."

Harry jumped in shock at that announcement. He could be seen noticing the fact that neither of the others was refuting the claim before he turned to Evan.

"What does he mean? I didn't k-kill anyone, did I?" his lower lip trembled and his eyes became wet.

Evan quickly pulled the little boy onto his lap and hugged him. He was sure Alice would have done the same were she not busy soothing Neville.

"How about I finish the story? That should explain everything," the other three all nodded, "As Aunt Alice said, she and her family and you Harry and your family went into hiding. The Potters hid using a charm called the Fidelius.

"The Fidelius Charm is an # immensely complex spell involving the magical concealment of a secret inside a single, living soul. The information is hidden inside the chosen person, or Secret-Keeper, and is henceforth impossible to find -- unless, of course, the Secret-Keeper chooses to divulge it.

"Now, for their secret keeper, the Potters initially chose their best friend, Sirius Black," he struggled to keep his voice even at the mention of his godfather, "After a time though, Sirius came up with a plan. They would change the secret keeper to another of their friends, Peter Pettigrew. Sirius would then act as a decoy, because everyone would think he was the obvious choice to be the secret keeper.

"Unfortunately, Pettigrew was a traitor and a Death Eater. He betrayed the secret to Voldemort," Harry gasped in horror, "Voldemort then came to the Potters house where you and your parents lived on Halloween night. He killed James first, while Lily tried to get you out," at this, Alice and Neville were listened intently, never having heard such details of that night before, "Then, he came into the room where they were hiding. He told Lily to stand aside, but she wouldn't. He cast the killing curse at her as she shielded you and she died."

As Evan spoke, Harry was trying to hold back tears. At the last however, he flung his arms around his cousin's neck and started sobbing. Evan held him close, rubbing his back and rocking him back and forth. After a moment Alice and Neville came to sit on either side of him, offering Harry what comfort they could. They sat that way for some time, until finally Harry pulled back to look at him, his eyes red and puffy.

"S-so it wasn't a c-car crash," he stated.

"Car crash?" Alice asked gently.

"The D-Dursleys told me they died in a c-car crash cos they were drunk."

"Why I never!" she exclaimed before snapping her mouth shut, her face going red.

Evan was sure she would have continued on were she not worried about upsetting Harry further.

"Evan dear, why don't you finish the story," she suggested.

He glanced to Harry to make sure it was alright with him and he nodded.

"Well, there's only a little bit left. After Lily died he turned his wand on you Harry and cast the killing curse again," he said and the boy's eyes went wide.

"Then why aren't I dead?"

"No one knows," Neville told him, "You're the only one who has ever survived it."

"When the curse hit you, it rebounded on Voldemort and his soul was cast out from his body."

"So, he died?" he asked, confused when Neville nodded but Evan shook his head.

"Of course he did Evan," Neville exclaimed, "Everyone knows that. That's why Harry's famous. Because he survived the killing curse with only that scar," he pointed at the boy's forehead, "And Voldemort was defeated."

Harry's hand flew to the scar on his forehead, his expression one of dawning understanding. Evan was sure that he was remembering every time anyone had stared the blemish, now knowing what it meant.

"Actually, he didn't die," Evan said, getting everyone's attention, "Somehow his spirit managed to escape. Not to sound overly dramatic, but he's out there somewhere still, just waiting for a way to come back."

The other three shivered at his pronouncement, looking fearful.

"And I have to kill him don't I?" Harry whispered, shocking Neville.

"I thought it was both of us."

"No," he shook his head, "The prophecy said something about marking-"

"And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal," Evan recited.

"Exactly. That's what this means isn't it?" he traced his scar.

"I think so, yes," Evan said, giving a solemn nod.

Alice gasped, her hand flying to her mouth, and then lunged forward to take Harry into a hug. Neville sat there looking shocked but also a little bit relieved.

"I know it probably makes me sound horrible, but I'm glad it's not me after all."

The younger Potter looked up from his place in Alice's lap and shook his head rapidly.

"No, you're not horrible. I'd feel the same if it was you."

Neville gave him a thankful look.

Sometime later they had all retaken their seats.

"Well, it's a good thing we're already arranging a tutor for the boys," Alice said to Evan, "We'll have to make sure he puts a focus on Defence Against the Dark Arts. I hope You-Know-Who never comes back but if he does, we'll make sure Harry's properly prepared."

"And me too," Neville said matter-of-factly, "Harry's my best friend and I'm going to help him."

Alice looked torn between pride and worry at that. She obviously decided to settle on the former as she gave her son a tight hug.

"I'm so proud of you Neville. You can be a bit bigheaded at times but you're such a good boy underneath it all."

"Mum, geroff," he squirmed away with an embarrassed look, causing the Potters to smirk.

After that they let the conversation drift onto less worrisome topics for the rest of the evening. Both Potter boys were forced into putting on mini fashion shows to display their new wardrobes. Everyone had good fun laughing at the ensembles the younger boy came out with whilst Harry – for his part – remained ignorant of the source of their amusement. Finally however, it grew late and they flooed home, taking their new clothes with them.

..ooOOoo..

# _quote from Prisoner of Azkaban (Chapter 10), taken from the 'Harry Potter Lexicon'_

_A/N: On the subject of the 'Harry Potter Lexicon', all writers – and just plain old fans – should check it out. It's brilliant for when you need to check your information or __you're having trouble remembering those little details. The site is: www(dot)hp-lexicon(dot)org_

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	14. The Headmaster’s Headache

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I'm finally introducing Dumbledore to the story. I'm afraid I'm not terribly happy with how this chapter turned out. Now, I was hoping to make the man come across as manipulative but not evil – doing all the things he does for 'the greater good' and because he believes he knows best. It took me a lot of rewrites to get this Dumbles near how I wanted him be, but I'm still not sure how well I succeeded. Anyway, let me know what you think and whether I've portrayed him how I intended to or not._

**Chapter 14 – The Headmaster's Headache**

– _Tue, 22/3/1988_ –

Somewhere in Scotland, in a magical school called Hogwarts, on the second floor, past a stone gargoyle guardian, up a spiral staircase, and through a highly polished oak door, with a brass knocker in the shape of a griffin, there could be found an office. And in this office, were one to look, there was to be found an elderly wizard with a long white beard and periwinkle blue robes, pacing back and forth across the room and muttering angrily to himself. This wizard was called Albus Dumbledore.

"…my plans… ruined… where… find him…"

Finally he threw himself into his seat and gave a frustrated scream, secure in the knowledge that the silencing charms on his office and locking charms on its door would prevent anyone from witnessing his most undignified behaviour.

Slumping in his chair, he raised a hand to his throbbing temple. Things were not going well. He sent his mind back to when it had all started; the first Sunday of the February just past.

..ooOOoo..

– _Sun, 7/2/1988_ –

The day had gone fairly normally at first. He had awoken early and dressed in his favourite lavender and turquoise robes before heading down to breakfast in the Great Hall with the other professors. As expected, most of the students took the opportunity to sleep late, only beginning to trickle in as he was polishing off his pumpkin juice. He had bid his colleagues a cheerful good day, heading back to his office to get some paperwork done and respond to his mail.

There were a number of letters from Minister Fudge, once again seeking his guidance. He had sighed at the incompetence of the man but responded politely all the same. Fudge may not be the cleverest wizard but he did have one redeeming quality, at least in Albus's opinion; he was quite easily controlled. Of course that could also work against the Headmaster; he'd heard rumours that Lucius Malfoy had been courting Cornelius Fudge's ear, and that would not do at all. He would have to keep in closer contact with their esteemed minister, keep the man dependant on him. That was the only way for him to truly ensure that the proper decisions were made in the government. Yes, that seemed best.

By the time lunch had rolled around, he had managed to get through all his mail and perhaps half of his paperwork backlog. He considered calling for a house-elf to bring him his meal and forging through the rest of it before changing his mind. He instead set the rest aside as he headed down to the great hall once again, this time for lunch.

The meal had passed as usual. Pomona and Poppy were having a discussion about expanding the section for medicinal plants in the greenhouses, to be supplied to the school infirmary. Severus and Rolanda got into a rousing debate once again about something or other. Really, the two quarreled like children at times. A small scuffle broke out between two of the fourth-years – Gryffindor and Slytherin – but Minerva quickly split them up, deducting points and assigning detentions.

All in all, the whole day seemed determined to be quite normal. Or so he had thought, heading back up to his office. It was as he passed the gargoyle, ascended the rising stairs and then opened his door that the seeming normalcy of the day was shattered – along with his eardrums.

Racing into his office, he followed the wailing and screeching noises to their source. On a shelf behind his desk stood what looked to the unenlightened to be a line of crystal figurines. To Albus Dumbledore however, they were much, much more. Several of those figurines were magically linked to a charm or ward which he had cast. A charm or ward on the famous Harry James Potter. Since the noises were all too loud to tell from which figurine they emanated, he was forced to silence them all and examine them individually. He started from the left, needing to determine the severity of the situation.

The first figurine he chose was of Merlin, bearing his legendary staff. The staff was done in such fine detail that the individual runes carved into it could be seen. This figurine was linked into the magic detecting wards cast around not only the Dursley residence but also the surrounding neighborhood and young Harry's school.

As he picked the statuette up, it filled with white smoke, as though it were a crystal ball. He watched intently as the smoke began changing colours. He frowned. Red meant Harry had had a magic outburst at school. Blue meant at home. Green meant near to four Privet Drive, merging towards yellow the further away from the house the incident happened. Purple smoke meant the magic was performed by some magician other than Harry.

The smoke in the figurine first flashed green before reverting to white. A moment later it was green again, then white, then green, then white and then green. It then remained white for some time. He was about to return Merlin to his place when the smoke changed colour once more. It flashed blue once before pausing and flashing twice very quickly again. He held it for awhile longer but the clouds seemed disinclined to change any further.

Since the figurine was charmed to show outburst in reverse order – from present to past in order of occurrence – he could tell that two almost simultaneous outbursts occurred at the Dursley home followed momentarily after by another. Then, an hour or so later another four instances of magic happened within perhaps ten minutes of each other, a few streets from the house.

This was not good. Harry's emotions must have been much heightened to sustain the state of mind to perform accidental magic for so extended a period of time – and not only inside but also outside the house, in a muggle neighborhood nonetheless. Still, the Ministry magical reversal squad no doubt already knew what had happened; he knew they also kept a close eye on the boy. Satisfied that they would handle any reversals and memory charms necessary, he set the crystal Merlin back down.

Next he picked up the figure to Merlin's right. It was of a phoenix, leaning forwards with a tear tracking down its cheek, as though trying to heal someone. The phoenix monitored Harry's health.

He picked it up and watched it fill with white smoke, as Merlin had. He knew that violet meant he was well, blue that his was sick but nothing life-threatening, green that he had a serious illness, yellow meant he was injured, orange meant his condition was severe and life-threatening, and red meant the unthinkable; he had perished.

As he continued to watch, the smoke changed to black. He blinked in surprise. That wasn't supposed to happen. He frowned in concentration, trying to remember what black meant. His eyes widened in alarm when he did. All his figurines where set to smoke black if its ward had fallen or its charm had been removed.

Quite worried now, he quickly put down the phoenix and picked up the statuette next in line; a miniature globe of the world. He watched in worry as it filled with white smoke, quickly turning black. His tracking charms had been disabled. He replaced the globe, snatching up the next without pause.

This one was of a chess piece; a pawn. This one ensured that Harry would not cause trouble, encouraging loyal towards him; or it would when they actually met. For now it simply made sure the boy would not wander far from home. It also made him disinclined to be a trouble maker and to want to protect others before himself; all traits he needed the boy to have if he was to play the role destiny had dictated was his. His alarm increased tenfold as the smoke that had appeared within the pawn turned black. This would not do. He could not have the boy out of his control or Voldemort might triumph.

Fearing what might happen next, he picked up the last of the magically linked figurines. This one was of a mother holding a baby. If one looked close enough they could see a faint lightning bolt on the babe's forehead. This one reported the state of the blood wards – the redder the smoke the stronger the wards. The statuette filled with white smoke before giving only the faintest, barely noticeable hint of pink.

He stared for a moment in disbelief. Either the linking charm was damaged or the wards had fallen and the only way for the wards to fall was for one of three things to happen. One, a curse breaker had brought them down, this being highly unlikely. Two, Petunia had retracted her willingness to house Harry in her home. Or three, Petunia Dursley had somehow perished.

A frown began crossing his face. He did not like complications in his plans. He was determined to find out which of the three possibilities had occurred, not to mention the reason for the other figurines smoking black. Angrily slamming the figurine back onto the shelf, he strode determinedly towards his fireplace, throwing in a handful of floo powder.

"Wisteria Walk!" he shouted, sticking his head into the flames.

The fire rushed around him before settling, leaving him looking out into a femininely decorated muggle-style living room that would have passed for ordinary, were it not for the inordinate number of felines gracing the furniture.

"Arabella!" he called.

There was the sound of light footsteps and a middle aged woman with graying hair and wearing tartan slippers and a house coat appeared in the doorway. She stared at the flames in slight surprise before taking a seat in an armchair before her fireplace, setting the cat she had displaced on her lap and scratching it behind the ears.

"Professor Dumbledore! What a surprise to see you."

"Arabella, a pleasure to see you as always," he twinkled knowing the importance of niceties in keeping his people loyal.

"And you sir. What can I do for you? Is this about the James look-alike?" she asked, immediately grabbing his attention.

"James look-alike?" he asked before shaking his head, assuming a stern expression and watching in satisfaction as she straightened up attentively, "I'm afraid I'm calling with unsettling news. I have reason to believe that Harry has been taken from Privet Drive. Have you seen anything; this James person perhaps?"

"Oh dear, this is terrible news," she exclaimed before gathering herself together, "Well, it was around lunchtime and I was walking to the supermarket to fetch a few boxes of Kittastic Cat Food as I had run out. I still had a few boxes of the cheaper Cat Chow of course but my Mr Tibbles is quite picky and he'll only eat the Kitta-"

"Arabella," Dumbledore cut her off looking quite grave, "I do not mean to sound rude but I really need you to hurry your explanation along. Time may be of the essence."

"Oh, apologies Headmaster," she blushed before going on, "So I was on the way to the supermarket – which leads me past Privet Drive – when I happened to notice a boy leaving from the Dursleys carrying young Harry."

"Did you investigate to ensure he was not kidnapping the boy?"

"Well, no," she said flustered before explaining, "Mr and Mrs Dursley were seeing him off from the door, holding it open and everything. Added to that it _was_ only a boy and I thought there was nothing to worry over. I did get quite the shock when I took a proper look at him though. I was a distance away but I'd swear he was the spitting image of a young James Potter."

"Hmm," Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully, "So you didn't follow them then?"

"No, I didn't. As I said, I thought there was nothing to worry over, even with such a strange likeness. I can tell you they were headed towards the park though."

"Very well. You have been most helpful, Arabella." he said with a thankful smile

In his head however, he was silently cursing the woman's decision to do nothing. A boy looking the mirror of James Potter, leaving the Dursleys with Harry was the sort of thing that warranted investigation. The whole reason for basing the squib there had been to keep an eye on the boy and she had missed a prime opportunity to do just that.

Sighing he focused back on the matter at hand. Arabella had indicated that Harry had left with the stranger with the Dursley's full knowledge and consent. He needed to pay them a visit and see what exactly had happened. Nodding in decision he looked up at the woman, sitting there patiently.

"I'll be coming through. I need to speak to the Dursleys."

"Of course sir."

Pulling his head from the fireplace he stood up in his office. After ensuring that he had his wand on him, he stepped into the flames and was whirled off to Little Whinging, where he stepped out gracefully into Arabella's living room.

"Can I get you anything Headmaster? Tea perhaps?" the squib asked, standing up on his arrival.

"No, I really must get going. But thank you for the offer."

"Of course."

With that, he swept from the house and strode towards Privet Drive, too focused on his goal to pay any mind to the strange looks he received for his rather unusual attire. Reaching number four he passed through the gate then up the walk, reaching the door and rapping sharply upon it three times.

From within the house he could hear light footsteps approaching the door and then a pause, followed by the sound of a lock unlocking. The door swung inwards, revealing a smiling Petunia Dursley. As soon as she saw him however, her welcoming expression slid from her face, replaced by one of distaste.

"You," she muttered.

Then, she suddenly swept a look up and down him, taking in his long beard, lavender and turquoise robes and high-heeled buckled boots. Her eyes widened and her neck craned forwards, looking rapidly about.

"Quickly, get in here, before anyone sees you!" she said in a harsh whisper, dragging him in by the arm.

He stumbled forward into the house at the unexpected action and the woman took the opportunity to quickly shut the door, before flitting about to the visible windows and tugging their curtains shut.

Quite put out with the treatment he was receiving – first being dragged about, then practically ignored – he gave a pointed cough, watching in satisfaction as Mrs Dursley squeaked and spun around, her face paling as she took in his stern glare. Still, her distaste for him seemed as strong as – if not stronger than – her fear, as she soon gathered herself again. She pulled herself upright and looked down her nose at him.

"Well, get on with it. What do you want?"

"I need to speak with you and your husband about a most important matter," he said, staring at her over his half moon spectacles, "Is he in?"

She sniffed, "Follow me."

She led him to the living room, quickly pulling the curtains in there closed as well.

"Take a seat, I'll get him."

And with that she was gone.

Albus stared at the door through which she had exited, a dissatisfied look on his face. She really was a very unpleasant woman. He almost felt some pity for young Harry having to live here. Of course, 'almost' was the key word in that sentence. There was no point in regretting his decision now; it was for the best after all. His aunt's blood provided strong protective wards and having the boy raised as a muggle would make it easier for him to step in as the guiding grandfather figure; better able to lead Harry towards his destiny. And if his family were less than pleasant… well, it was better than the alternative. Better that Harry be overly humble than raised as a spoiled brat. Of course, all his plans would be useless if he didn't get the Potter boy back here where he belonged.

He looked up as the sound of heavy footsteps, watching the skinny Dursley woman re-enter the room with her oversized husband. Petunia stopped near the doorway, her arms folded and a sour look upon her face, obviously intending to let her husband lead the conversation. For his part, upon seeing the strangely dress wizard in his living room, Vernon Dursley's face turned quickly to white, followed just as rapidly by an angry red.

"Now see here, what do you think you are doing in my house?" he demanded, his moustache twitching angrily.

Dumbledore – whist inwardly annoyed at the man's behaviour – merely took a seat, folding his hands in his lap and looking quite calm.

"Why don't you both have a seat, hmm?" he suggested.

Then he whipped out his wand and watched with an extra bright twinkle in his eye as two armchairs were animated and walked over to the two muggles. The woman shrieked and the man cursed as they bumped against the back of their legs, until they each finally took the hint and sat down.

"Tea, scones?"

He hid his amusement at their reactions as he conjured up the items on a silver platter, sitting on their coffee table. Mr Dursley's face was changing rapidly from white to red to purple then back to white again. It was actually somewhat worrying. Mrs Dursley sat rigidly, wringing her hands. Her face was a strange mix of emotion - her eyes wide in fright and her lips pursed in distaste. He poured himself a cup of tea and took a sip before deciding he'd had enough fun and that it was time to get down to business.

"Harry left your house in the company of another, older boy at around lunchtime today," he said seriously, "Tell me everything that happened."

Vernon apparently did not take well to an order coming from a wizard and seemed ready to start shouting. He was stopped however as his wife reached a hand across and gripped his arm tightly. She turned to look at the Headmaster, and began speaking in a strained voice.

"The stranger was the boy's cousin."

"Did he give a name?"

"Evan Adam Potter, according to the papers."

"Papers?"

"Yes, the adoption papers."

Dumbledore sat up straight, eyes widening in alarm.

"What do you mean adoption papers? You were both charged to look after the boy, he is your responsibility. Not to mention that Harry has no cousins."

"Now see here!" Vernon blustered, "We took in that freak boy out of the goodness of out hearts; feeding him, clothing him and providing for him. And we did it because it was the respectable thing to do as much as we hated him. But, we were led to believe that we were the only family that could take him. Now along comes this Evan Potter saying he's the boy's family and can take custody. Well, that changes everything. We're not the boy's only relatives anymore so there's no reason we should have to put up with him. And we didn't. We signed those bloody papers right away and let the fellow leave with the boy."

"And as for him having no cousins," Petunia added, "If those boy's aren't cousins then they must be brothers or something. That Evan boy looked exactly like Harry as well as Lily's husband. All of them with that horridly messy hair. No, they're related; there's not a doubt in my mind about that."

Dumbledore took in their words without comment although inwardly he was more than a little bothered at the strength of their dislike for their nephew. As they spoke he used his legilimency skills to ensure they were being truthful. He also took the opportunity to pull up their memories of this morning to see them for himself.

He watched as Petunia greeted a stranger at her front door – a stranger with a keen resemblance to the Potters – and invited him in. Although there were no flaws in the boy's appearance that would signal a glamour being used, he would not be able to tell for sure unless he met this boy in person. He could usually see easily through glamour charms, but not from a memory.

He kept watching as Vernon and Petunia returned to their guest who introduced himself as Evan Potter, Harry Potter's supposed cousin. He watched the curses fly and then listened to this Evan offer to take the Dursleys' ward. He was dismayed as he then felt their eagerness to be rid of young Harry, as they quickly signed the provided parchments. Those parchments more than anything bothered him. He couldn't tell without inspecting them personally but they seemed quite authentic.

As the memories continued be barely held back a gasp as this Evan spoke of where the Dursleys had been keeping Harry, proving his point by going to the cupboard under the stairs and then opening the door. Inside, as he had claimed, was Harry Potter, sitting on a thin cot.

Once he was done watching their memories he tried to decide on the best course of action. He was shocked that the Dursleys' hatred of magic had extended so far that they kept their own nephew in such conditions. A part of him wanted to see these muggles punished and ensure Harry never came near them again. The logical side of him however vetoed the idea.

The prophecy clearly stated that Harry had a destiny to fulfill and Dumbledore felt it was his responsibility to keep Harry safe and sound until he could do it. As much as he might not like the idea, he knew that with the blood wards, number four Privet Drive was one of the safest places for him. That did not mean he wouldn't ensure conditions improved for the boy hero though.

Decided, he stood, glaring at both the muggles and flexing his aura eerily. His audience paled at the display of seeming anger. Whilst normally he wouldn't try to use such intimidation to get his way, he felt it may be the best way to get across to these people; perhaps the only way to get through to the blustering Vernon Dursley.

"I am disgusted that you would both to carelessly hand Harry over to a complete stranger. Such a resemblance could easily be faked by magic. If harm comes to young Harry from your callous disregard for his safety then I assure you that you will both be held accountable.

"More than that, I am sorely disappointed to know you have let your dislike for magic go so far. Yes, I know now where you have forced you're nephew to live and I am very disappointed in you both."

He paused then and reigned his aura back in. The Dursleys both seemed too terrified to argue, even the fat one. Adopting a considering expression he stared hard at them both of them before continuing on in a softer voice.

"However, I can be forgiving. In fact, if Harry is found unharmed I believe I would be willing to give you both another chance," he offered, appearing magnanimous, "I will return Harry to your care when I find him and I expect you both to take better care of him this time. He will be given a proper bedroom and I don't want to hear of you two willingly handing him over to a stranger again. Do you both understand?"

Both nodded rapidly, looking grateful for his mercy. He had to struggle a bit to keep the satisfied look off of his face. Since that both agreed, he resumed his normal knowing expression, eye-twinkling and all.

"Well, I am so glad that we have come to an accord," he said, standing up, "As soon as I find your nephew I will have him returned to you. Good day."

Then, without waiting for a response from either of them, he apparated away with a '_pop_'.

..ooOOoo..

Dumbledore apparated into the park Arabella had indicated the boys were heading to, surprising a family having a picnic. A few quick memory charms later and the family were leaving the park, remembering having finished their lunch in peace with no strange happenings at all.

Casting a magical detection spell, he watched as two areas lit up near one of the picnic tables. A closer look showed that one of the glows seemed to hover over the bench and the other was surrounding a stick lying on the ground.

Unable to divine anything further, he cast the magical detection spell again. He looked around but saw no other glows indicating magic usage. He was just about to leave the park when a flicker of light caught his attention. Heading in that direction, he found another couple magical traces behind a copse of trees, both glows hovering above the ground.

Further inspection gave no further information of the lower trace. He got lucky with the higher one however, when he discovered it had been a portkey. Nodding in satisfaction, his work here done, he apparated away once again.

..ooOOoo..

Arriving in the Ministry of Magic's apparition area, he quickly cast a notice-me-not charm on himself. His business was too important to be distracted by fans and politicians wishing to speak to him, however well-meaning they may be.

Ten minutes later, he had made his way to the records department, making himself momentarily invisible and slipping past the workers, looking for the personal file on Harry Potter. Soon finding the filing cabinet dedicated to the Potter family, he opened it and riffled through the folders till he found Harry's. Holding his breath, he opened it then he sagged in dismay. There, right on top, was a flat parchment copy of an adoption contract, making one Evan Adam Potter the rightful guardian of Harry James Potter.

..ooOOoo..

– _Tue, 22/3/1988_ –

The fact that the adoption papers were genuine had really tied his hands. The only way to overturn the contract would be to take the matter to the wizarding courts. Unfortunately, the only reason the Dursleys had be able to take custody in the first place was because he had gone against the Potters' will, even going so far as to use magic to ensure it was never read.

If the matter was brought to court, the will would be required to be presented, and he would be in a whole lot of trouble. He could try explaining why he had done it; that the blood wards provided the best possible protection for young Harry. Unfortunately, the wizarding world placed a great deal of importance on wills and rather than the public accepting his reasons, it was far more likely that they would rebel against him, demanding he faced charges or some such.

Sighing, he plucked a lemon drop from the candy bowl sitting on his desk and popped it into his mouth. Hmm, sour… rather like his mood. He groaned at the maudlin though and cast his mind back to what had happened after he had discovered the adoption papers were genuine.

He hadn't simply given up of course. Countless tracking spells, several discrete enquiries and several days had all turned up nothing. The first break in his search had happened just yesterday in the form of an article in the Daily Prophet.

..ooOOoo..

– _Mon, 21/3/1988_ –

He had been sitting at the head table for breakfast, contemplating the search for Harry, when the morning mail had arrived. A gasp from his left moments later drew his attention. His deputy headmistress was staring avidly at an article on the front page of the Daily Prophet. In fact, it seemed quite a great number of breakfast-goers were doing the same. Since he received so much mail on a daily basis, he had personal owl wards which redirected all his mail to his office. Thus he was without his own copy of the newspaper at this time and left not knowing what the fuss was about.

"Problem Minerva?" he asked, hoping she would clear the matter up.

"What in Merlin's name was Harry Potter doing in Diagon Alley yesterday Albus?" she asked, giving him her newspaper along with a questioning look.

Eyes widening, we quickly took the proffered newspaper and scanned over the main article.

_Boy-Who-Lived Spotted in Diagon Alley_

_By Deidre Devonport_

_Alley goers yesterday afternoon were treated to a rare sight. It seems the reclusive Harry Potter, defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, was in attendance. One Samuel Anders was the first to spot the young hero._

"_I lost my grip on my newspaper and was chasin' after it when a little boy catches it for me. I stopped to thank him and that's when I saw the scar," Anders explains excitedly._

_Unfortunately this reporter must report that not all went well. Upon hearing that their hero was present, shoppers flocked over to see him. In their enthusiasm however, they overwhelmed young Harry and two witches shamefully admit to having knocked him over in their haste to meet him._

"_I didn't even notice that he'd fallen at first," one of the witches, who chooses to remain nameless, admits tearfully, "Until suddenly a voice starts shouting over the crowd, telling us to move away from little Harry."_

_Eyewitnesses report that the stranger bore a startling resemblance to a young James Potter, deceased father of the Boy-Who-Lived. The James Potter look-alike then proceeded to make his way to the downed boy hero, sending __Stupefy and Petrificus Totalus curses to those who didn't make way._

"_It wasn't till the stranger reached little Harry and the boy threw himself into the strangers arms that we realised he was crying," the unnamed witch says, "I felt right horrid just about then; everyone did. The stranger said we should be ashamed of our behaviour and he was absolutely right."_

_According to Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter has been living with his muggle relatives since the defeat of You-Know-Who. One wonders then what he was doing in Diagon Alley and who this stranger with such a startling resemblance to the Potters is. Rest assured readers, that __Deidre Devonport intends to find out._

Reaching the end of the article he looked up. Not only Minerva but also the rest of the staff and most of the students were looking to him for an answer. He knew that he could not tell them the truth. If they found out that a stranger claiming to be a Potter had taken custody of Harry, the public would certainly call on the Ministry to ensure this Evan Potter was worthy to look after their young hero. If that happened, chances are the Potters' will would come up and that would be disastrous.

And so, he adopted a disapproving expression on his face as he turned toward his deputy headmistress, intent on denying the authenticity of the sighting.

"Since I know for a fact that young Harry is with his muggle guardians," he said, loud enough for those nearby to hear, "This must doubtless be a hoax."

"A hoax Albus?"

"Why yes. This would not be the first time the Daily Prophet has reported false sightings of Harry Potter."

"That's true but Albus, the last false sightings the Prophet itself has deigned to report were years ago."

"So clearly someone has taken advantage of their lack to give their own show more credence."

Minerva still seemed unconvinced but she was the only one. He watched in satisfaction as the students sitting closest to the head table, who had overheard the conversation, passed his words on to those further away and so on. Soon every student in the school would believe that this was a false sighting. He sighed in relief.

..ooOOoo..

– _Tue, 22/3/1988_ –

As expected, his words had spread to the rest of the school by dinner time. Doubtless students had mentioned it in owls to friends and families also. Still, just to be certain he had penned a note to the Daily Prophet that previous evening.

This morning, the newspaper had printed another article about the sighting, mentioning his claims that it was a hoax. He had also had them requesting any information on these 'frauds' trying to take advantage of the Boy-Who-Lived's fame. Publicly he said the reason was to prevent them from trying the same thing again. Privately however, he was hoping for further leads on Harry's location.

He groaned and raised his hand once more to his temple where his headache was now in full swing. This was all becoming far too complicated. Everything was rapidly spinning out of his control and he was still no closer to finding Harry Potter.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	15. Fame and Corruption

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: The review response thingamabob seems to be down at the moment so apologies to the five or so people I've yet to respond to; will do so as soon as possible. Apart from that, hope you all enjoy. Cheers._

**Chapter 15 – Fame and Corruption**

– _Sun, 27/3/1988_ –

Yet another week passed by at the Potter Home. Harry's behaviour continued to even out, for which Evan was thankful. It must be said though, that the younger boy still delighted in hiding in secret passages and jumping out to surprise his elder self on occasion.

Harry had also seemingly found a new hobby which surprised Evan. Early on Tuesday morning the boy had been wandering through the library when he had actually stopped to look at a few of the books. When he discovered that they weren't normal books as he had expected but instead books on magic, he had been ecstatic. Ever since then, Harry could hardly be found anywhere without one. Evan had even caught him trying to sneak one into his bathroom to read in the pool one evening. He had scolded the boy for being so careless with the safety of the book, inwardly hoping he didn't discover water-proofing charms in his readings anytime soon. Really though, the whole thing was actually quite amusing. It was almost like raising a miniature, male version of Hermione. He would bet his invisibility cloak that she had tried the bath stunt sometime herself when she was younger.

Eventually the next Sunday rolled around and they were once again invited to lunch with Alice and Neville, as was becoming tradition. This time, Harry was the one waiting for Evan at the fireplace, bouncing eagerly on his toes, a book tucked under his arm and not a trace of nerves in sight. Evan had smiled at him, glad to see he was no longer hesitant when it came to seeing the Longbottoms and together they had flooed over to Longbottom Manor.

Lunch went as usual although the book Harry had propped up with the salt and pepper shakers did draw some attention.

"What's with the book?" Neville had asked curiously.

"It's about magical creatures," Harry responded eagerly.

"But why are you reading it?"

"Seems our Harry has picked up a new hobby," Evan explained with a smile, "Ever since he realised the books in our library were about magic, he's spent nearly all his time reading."

"You're not turning into a bookworm are you?" Neville asked, wrinkling his nose up.

Evan watched as Harry took in his friend's distaste with worry, glancing hesitantly from his book to the boy beside him. He knew his young cousin still didn't know how to not take criticisms personally and he worried that this would turn him off his new hobby. That was the last thing he wanted seeing as it not only kept him out of trouble but he also seemed to quite enjoy it. Fortunately, Alice also caught the direction of the boy's thoughts as she gave her son a stern look.

"Well I think it's wonderful," she said, smiling encouragingly at Harry, "Don't you listen to my son dear. You just enjoy learning all you can. And you Neville, you could learn a thing or two from Harry. Lord knows your tutors have always had a terrible time getting you to focus on lessons. I know you're a bright boy; you need only-"

"-apply yourself," Neville finished, mimicking his mother in a girly voice, "You always say that."

"And it's always true," she sniffed.

Neville gave a great sigh and looked at his friend beside him. It seemed he was not completely oblivious, as when he saw the still slightly unsure expression on Harry's face he immediately gave another sigh, this one fake and overdone.

"Well, if I must have a bookworm for a friend, I'll have to loan you some of my books. We need to get you reading important things like '_A Prankster's Guide to Mess and Mayhem_' and '_101 Excuses to Get Away with Anything_'."

Evan watched on with a feeling of apprehension as Harry's face lit with curiosity and eagerness.

"Really? Are they magical type pranks?" he asked and Neville perked up at his interest.

"Oh yeah and non-magical ones too."

"You know, I think I once turned my teacher's hair blue."

"You did?" Neville's eyes widened and he grinned broadly, "Brilliant! Hey, this one time I-"

Evan watched them begin a debate on who had played the best trick ever and he groaned, banging his head on the table.

"Great, just great," his head still on the table, he rolled it to the side and looked up and their host, "Your son has corrupted my sweet innocent Harry."

Alice took the accusation in with a grin before adopting a consoling expression.

"You poor thing," the patted his back comfortingly, "I'm afraid I have the dubious honour of welcoming you to the P.P.P.P. group."

"P.P.P.P.?"

"Yes, the 'Poor, Pitiable, Parents of Pranksters' group," she explained and he was unable to conceal an amused snort, "I pity the Hogwarts professors when they turn eleven though."

"Why is that?"

"Well, just imagine the trouble they could cause together; Neville with the imagination to think up the most terrible tricks and Harry with the book knowledge to make them happen."

The two boys, having heard their names mentioned, grinned at each other at her statement.

"It'll be great!" Neville exclaimed, "We'll be ina- inif- inafm-"

"Infamous?" Evan supplied.

"Yes, infamous!"

"And me and Alice will spend our days flooded with owls informing us of your detentions," he said seriously, but the two boys seemed unbothered by the prospect, so he groaned again.

Alice just gave a half worried, half amused expression, patting him consolingly once more before changing the subject.

"On another note, did you see the Daily Prophet from Monday and Tuesday?"

"Daily Prophet?" he gave her a blank look, "No, I don't have a subscription; why?"

"You and Harry were both mentioned."

"We were?" the younger boy asked in surprise.

"Yes, It was about you're appearance in Diagon Alley."

"But why would anyone want to write about that?" the boy looked honestly confused.

"You have to remember that to most witches and wizards you're famous," Evan explained.

"But why would they want to write about something little like me going there. Unless it was about how all those people kept crowding around me."

"That was mentioned but I don't think you understand just how famous you are. Event the littlest thing is likely to end up in the paper," Alice told him.

"Yeah," Neville agreed, "They don't know you're a normal person like we do. To them you're like some big hero. They'd probably write it in the newspaper if you just took a shi-"

"Neville Longbottom!" Alice yelled and the boy winced, "You _will_ watch you language. Or, if you insist on speaking so filthily I shall insist upon washing your mouth out with a soap spell."

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry! I won't do it again," he hurriedly assured her.

"Soap spell?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, it makes soap bubbles come out of your mouth and it tastes _awful_."

As Neville shuddered Evan admired the effectiveness of Alice's threat and filed it away for future use. Hopefully, it would never be necessary but if Harry did adopt a penchant for swearing, he now knew a very effective way to dissuade him. He focussed back on the conversation as Alice spoke up again.

"Now, Neville should have phrased it a bit better," she paused to give her son a stern look, "But the general meaning was accurate. You're a huge celebrity and the media will likely follow your every move."

Harry paled, "I don't think I like the idea of all that attention. Plus with the way all those people acted in Diagon Alley, I don't think I like being famous at all."

"There, there dear," Alice said, leaning over and giving him a brief one-armed hug, "I can understand why you wouldn't like it but unfortunately there's nothing we can do about it."

Harry threw a pleading look to Evan, as though hoping he could think of a way out of it. He guiltily shook his head, wishing he could.

"I'm afraid Alice is right," at Harry's sad look he added, "We can work on disguises though, and I'll work on glamour charms. That way no one will recognise you when you go out."

The boy seemed to brighten at that until Neville made another comment.

"It'll be terrible having everyone's attentions on us. It'll make it harder to get away with our pranks."

"You shouldn't be thinking about pranks at all," Alice scolded although she knew from experience that it was useless to try to stop her son's mischievous nature.

Harry meanwhile, had adopted a thoughtful expression. They all watched at that thoughtful expression turned slightly wicked.

"What are you thinking?" Evan asked, not sure he wanted to know.

"Oh, nothing," Harry said a falsely innocently voice, "I'm definitely not thinking that we could use my fame for our uses as well. And I'm sure I would never think of using my fame to make people let us get away with stuff, or to think that we wouldn't do such horrible pranks."

Neville's mouth dropped open, a look of awe on his face before he cracked up laughing.

"Brilliant!" the Longbottom boy declared.

Evan meanwhile, was quite shocked at the direction of his younger self's thoughts. He knew that he himself would never have considered using his celebrity to his advantage. Perhaps it was because shortly after he had discovered his fame, he had been sorted into Gryffindor, surrounded by their 'noble' ideals. Maybe if he had let the hat sort him as it had wished back in first year, such ideas would have occurred to him as well.

At that thought, he gave Harry a considering look. He wondered where the sorting hat would place him when he went to Hogwarts in a few years. Evan fully intended to give his cousin an unbiased view of the school, rather than the anti-Slytherin one that Dumbledore had encouraged in him. Perhaps the sorting hat would get its way with this Harry. Perhaps he would become a Slytherin.

Shaking of the thoughts he gave Alice a mock-accusing look.

"Corrupted I say, corrupted!"

Alice merely snorted inelegantly.

Attention was soon turned back to their meal and they all resumed eating, chatting as they did so. After lunch was over the boys raced off to Neville's room – as usual – talking about finding all of the Longbottom boy's 'important' books for Harry to borrow. Evan watched them go, shaking his head sadly.

"And it had gotten so lovely and quiet at Potter Manor recently," he lamented.

"Ah, well. It'll keep things interesting for you," Alice said, grinning unrepenting at his frown until it turned into a pout.

"Meanie."

"So mature," Alice said before adopting a serious look, "Anyway, I still haven't told you all about the newspaper articles."

"What about them?" he asked curiously.

"One moment. _Denny_!" she called.

The house-elf in question arrived in the room with a '_pop_'.

"What can Denny do for Mistress?"

"Can you fetch those newspaper clippings that I kept from my bedside table please?"

"One moment Mistress Alice."

'_Pop_'… '_Pop_'.

"Your newsee clippings, Mistress Alice."

"Thank you Denny. That will be all."

And with that the house-elf disappeared again with a '_pop_'. Alice handed the clippings over to Evan who began reading them both. Finally he reached the end of the second one and put them down on the table.

"Well, that's strange," he said, "I wonder why Dumbledore's telling everyone it was a fake? He had to have known Harry is missing from the ring."

"Ring?"

"Oh, the family ring that I gave Harry to wear. It-"

"Cancels and removes spells from its wearer."

He blinked, "Yeah, how did you know?"

"The Smyths are an old pure-blood family with rings of its own. You'll find that the cancelling-spells feature is common to most family rings. Then of course there are the other charms."

"Other charms?"

"On the rings," he still looked confused at that so she explained, "Different family rings have different spells. I heard rumour once that the Dumbledore ring can enable the wearer to turn invisible at will."

At that, Evan remembered a conversation he had once had with Dumbledore before the Mirror of Erised. 'I don't need a cloak to become invisible', he had said. His eyes widened, now knowing what he had meant. He wondered what if his family ring could do the same and asked Alice just that.

"I couldn't say what's on the Potter one," she replied, "As the charms are generally kept secret within the family. I know what's on the Longbottom and Smyth family ones, but I can't tell you. Now, now, don't be disappointed dear. Just write a letter to your account manager or stop by Gringotts to see them. They generally keep a record of all the charms so they should be able to tell you."

"Thanks, I think I'll do that. Anyway, we've gone off topic."

"Yes, indeed. You were wondering why the old man claimed it wasn't really Harry at Diagon last Sunday."

"Yes, exactly."

"You honestly can't think of a reason?" she asked, sounding surprised.

"This is going to be one of those times where you tell me and I realise how obvious it should've been, making me look rather foolish, isn't it?" he asked with a pout.

"Probably, dear."

"Well then, go ahead and make a fool of me."

"Well, one reason is that he likely doesn't want the public to know that he has 'lost control' of the Boy-Who-Lived," she speculated.

"Okay, I can see that. What's another reason?"

"Well, I suspect – I'm not certain though – that the old man disregarded Lily and James's will to place Harry with the Dursleys."

"He did," Evan nodded and Alice's eyes widened, then narrowed at having her suspicions confirmed.

"Well, that's it then. If the public found out some mysterious Potter relative supposedly came out of nowhere to take custody of Harry they'd likely be very sceptical of the story," Evan shifted uncomfortably at that and she rolled her eyes, "Stop fidgeting dear, I'm not going to ask you any awkward questions," he gave a relieved sigh before she added, "I'll have you telling all eventually though. Anyway, the public would probably demand that the matter be looked into; the Ministry or others may even try to challenge your guardianship of Harry."

"Oh, Jarnack – my account manager – explained this. If there was a trial then the Potters' will would have to be brought forward."

"Exactly dear. And that's the last thing the old man would want."

He nodded but then both turned as they heard the sound of whispering. Alice raised her eyebrow and threw him a look before waving her wand at the door to the room. As the door suddenly sprung open, the two boys who had been pressed against it fell forwards into the room. They both quickly clambered to their feet, Harry looking quite guilty and Neville looking not at all sorry, merely annoyed at having been caught.

"And just what did you two think you were doing?" Alice asked.

Neville sighed, "We were practicing out spying skills. You weren't meant to find us though," the boy looked so put out that Evan had to stifle a laugh.

"How much did you hear?" Evan asked and Harry answered.

"You said you'd gone off topic and Aunty Alice said something about an old man saying I wasn't really in Diagon Alley."

"Dumbledore," Neville supplied.

"Huh?"

"That's what mum calls Dumbledore sometimes – 'old man'."

"Oh," he nodded before biting his lip and sending Evan a hesitant look, "Did this Duble- Dumble- Dumba-"

"Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore. Did he really put me with the Dursleys against my parents will?"

Seeing the emotion on his younger self's face and the tears threatening to fall, Evan held his arms out towards him.

"Come here."

Harry flew across the room and threw himself into his cousin's lap, holding him tightly. Neville meanwhile, took a seat next to his mother.

"So did he?" Neville asked.

Harry looked up at him, clearly wanting an answer also. He shared a look with Alice before nodding his head.

"Yeah, I'm afraid he did."

"That's terrible. Is that why you've never liked him mum?" the Longbottom boy saw his friend's confused expression and explained, "Albus Dumbledore is like a really famous wizard and everyone thinks he's the leader of the light or something."

"Leader of the light?" Harry asked.

"Like the best good guy there is," the green-eyed boy nodded in understanding, "Anyway, most people think he's the greatest except for me and mum. Well, I just don't like him because mum doesn't, but I've never known why she doesn't like him till now. That is the reason, isn't it mum?"

"Partly," Alice nodded, "It's also because he stopped me from seeing Harry after Lily and James died."

"You wanted to see me?" Harry asked, eyes wide.

"Of course dear, I'm your godmother after all," she said making him smile, "In fact, I was supposed to have c- c-," she gave an annoyed sound and looked imploringly to Evan.

"Aunt Alice was supposed to have custody of you instead of the Dursleys."

"Really? I was supposed to live with you?" he asked and she nodded.

"Wow," said Neville, "We would've been like brothers."

"I'm kinda sad that I didn't and kinda glad too," Harry said, much to everyone's shock.

"Why is that?" asked Evan.

He knew the best of them all just what the little boy had gone through with the Dursleys. Harry shifted and little on Evan's lap, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. He looked up at his cousin through lowered lashes as he spoke.

"Because then I never would have been able to live with you," he said shyly.

Evan stared at him for a long moment, touched by the sentiment, before enfolding the boy in a hug, kissing him tenderly on the crown of his head. After a time a loud voice interrupted them.

"Okay! Enough mushy stuff!" Neville said, causing his teary-eyed mother to swat him on the back of the head.

"Neville," she scolded.

Evan released his hold all the same, although Harry remained snuggled close to his chest. Harry looked away, then gave Alice a curious look.

"Aunty Alice, why did you have to have Evan tell me that?"

"Yeah," Neville agreed, also curious, "You were taking normally then suddenly you went 'c- c-', like you couldn't talk."

Alice hesitated but Evan said nothing, knowing this was her secret to tell – or not, as the case may be. Finally however, she looked set to explain.

"The old man cast a secrecy spell on me."

Neville gasped in horror, looking outraged. Harry though, merely looked confused.

"What's a secrecy spell?"

"It's a spell that makes you keep a secret. It's a dark spell."

"It's not dark exactly. If one casts it on themselves or lets someone cast it on them then it is perfectly alright. If someone casts it on them without their permission however, it is considered illegal since it takes away a person's free will."

After Alice had explained, Harry too looked upset.

"That's terrible. I really don't like this Dumbledore man at all," he declared.

"Me neither Harry," Evan said, frowning, "Me neither."

Their conversation continued on for some time, Alice and Evan explaining to their charges the extent of the 'old man's' crimes. Evan was a little bit glad that the boys had been trying to eavesdrop on them, since it brought about this whole conversation. He had been meaning to tell Harry about Dumbledore for a week now, but he hadn't been sure how to start the conversation. He would still have to explain to his younger self some of the things the Dumbledore of his dimension had gone on to do to him, but that would have to wait till they got home.

Eventually, the conversation petered out and Alice changed it over to a new subject.

"So, have you responded to Remus yet?"

"Remus. Isn't that the name of one of your old friends from school?" Neville interrupted.

"Yes dear, he was. He's also going to be taking over from Nanny Adella," she said before turning back to Evan.

"No, I haven't yet. I was meaning to ask you what I should put in the next letter."

"Oh, well you'll need to discuss rate of pay and conditions and such," she began explaining, causing Neville to groan.

"Let's go Harry. They're only going to be talking about boring stuff."

As he hopped down off his chair and headed out the room, Harry went to do the same. He hesitated at the last minute however, before throwing his arms around Evan for a quick hug and then running off. Evan watched him go before turning to Alice who was wearing a soft smile.

"That little boy really loves you, you know?"

"And the feeling is entirely mutual," he sent back before shaking his head, "Anyway, back to Remus."

"Right. I'd say just offer to pay him the average amount granted to combined nurse and tutor with an extra tutors wage for the time he spends on lessons with Harry. I'll get you a copy of the figures before you leave."

"I was thinking," Evan hesitated before deciding to tell her his idea, "Well I was thinking of including monthly Wolfsbane potion and room and board at Potter Manor if he wanted to stay."

Alice looked delighted at the idea at first before her expression fell a bit.

"Oh, that would be lovely but I doubt he would accept it."

"Why not?"

"Remus is not at all arrogant but he is _very_ proud. He'd see it as charity of some sort and wouldn't accept so much – even if it would be best for him."

Evan considered the man in question and came to the same conclusion. He would be just as bad as the Weasley's when it came to something he thought might be charity.

"Damn. I was really hoping he'd want to stay with us and I know how hard life can be for werewolves without Wolfsbane."

"Perhaps we could still offer those extras to him, but also only pay him a reduced pay rate to make up for it."

"I guess," he said his reluctance for that idea clear in his voice.

"It's the only way I see it happening," she said matter-of-factly, causing him to nod in agreement.

..ooOOoo..

Later that night after a long talk with Harry about Evan's home dimension's Dumbledore's crimes, followed by a hot dinner, the little boy was tucked away into bed. Shortly after that Evan was once again sat in his study, intending to write a letter to one Remus Lupin. He took a blank leaf of parchment from the upper draw of his desk and inked a spare quill, before setting it to the page.

_To__ Mr Lupin_

_Firstly I would like to apologise for the delay in my reply…_

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	16. Offer and Terms

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I'm afraid this is yet another short Remus chapter. Once again I cut it off there because it just seemed to fit into my chapter plans best that way. Expect the next one to be particularly long to make up for it though :)_

_**READ ME: **Also, in the next chapter Harry's going to find out from Gringotts what other charms and such are on his and Harry's rings. I have a few ideas of my own but not enough. So, if anyone has any other suggestion for things they want them to have, do let me know in your review. Thanks muchly._

**Chapter 16 – Offer and Terms**

– _Sun, 27/3/1988_ –

Remus Lupin was sitting on his sofa, sipping tea and reading his copy of Charles Dickens '_A Tale of Two Cities_', when there was a tapping on the living room window. His head snapped upwards, his gaze taking in the white snowy owl perched on his outer windowsill. As soon as he recognised her as the owl he knew to be called Hedwig, he jumped to his feet. Cursing a little as he spilled his tea, but all in all to eager to do anything about it, he hurried over to let the bird in.

As soon as he had detached the letter from her leg, Hedwig perched herself on his coffee table, taking sips from what little tea was left in his cup. In too nervous a mood to be annoyed, he merely sat back down on the sofa, running his hands appreciatively over the envelope. Of all the things he missed most about the wizarding world – apart from the obvious – proper quality parchment was quite high on the list. He finally turned the envelope over and read the address before breaking out into a smile.

_Mr R. Lupin_

_Somewhere_

He recognised the salutation and address as well as the barely tidy, scrawled handwriting. This letter – as if the owl had not given it away already – was definitely from the mysterious Evan Potter.

Since receiving Mr Potter's first letter, he had been curious to know what the wizarding world's reaction was to an unknown wizard taking custody of young Harry had been. He had left that world behind quite long ago but he knew enough to know that they had idolised James boy, hailing him as a hero. He assumed that there would be some sort of commotion about his change in guardianship.

And so, he had made a trip into Diagon Alley for the first time in near six years. It had for the most part been exactly as he remembered it. A few new stores had opened up, a few old ones had closed down and many of the faces were different; apart from that though it was the same.

He had managed to make his way unnoticed to the Owl Office, securing himself a copy of the day's Daily Prophet as well as a half-year subscription. He had believed that would be the best way find out what was going on in the wizarding world, short of making contact with the few acquaintances he had had left before leaving for the muggles. Of course, given that he had left them all without a word or a goodbye, he wasn't overly keen on the latter idea.

On the trip back out of the Alley he remained just as unnoticed as on the way in and soon enough he found himself apparating back to his run-down apartment. Upon sitting down at his kitchen table and finally opening his newspaper, he had been surprised to find that Harry was not mentioned at all. He wondered if perhaps his cub's fame had waned over the years.

That theory had been quite thoroughly discredited however, by last Monday's edition of the Prophet and a detailed article by one Deidre Devonport about Harry being sighted in Diagon Alley. He had been quite worried to read of the way Harry had been mobbed and more than a little angered to hear of his distress.

The comment of a James look-alike had given him an irrational moment of false hope before he realised that it couldn't possibly have been him, that he had been dead for over six years now. After that his logical mind concluded that this stranger must have been Evan Potter. From the pictures he had seen of James's lost brother Adam he knew the man had looked quite similar to his friend. It was reasonable to assume that Adam's son would also.

After that he had found himself admiring the way the newspaper reported him to have acted. He was glad to see that Evan was protecting Harry and even willing to go as far as to have cursed those who wouldn't make way in order to do so. He himself would have done no less.

The very next day another article had fronted the Prophet. Dumbledore himself had declared the whole thing a hoax – someone trying to cash in on the fame of 'the boy-who-lived'. That had greatly confused him since his instinct had been telling him that original article had been true. He had at first wondered if perhaps the Headmaster hadn't yet realised that Harry had left Private Drive. He immediately banished the thought though. If the old man had been willing to go to the trouble of placing wards strong enough to prevent anyone from even seeing Harry, then he no doubt would have placed some sort of tracking charm on the boy. Of course that still did not answer the question of why he had denied the Prophet's article. It was a conundrum.

He had spent the days since then waiting anxiously for a reply from his prospective employer, growing more worried as the days passed. He wondered if the man had reconsidered. Perhaps he had decided that it would not be safe to let a werewolf around his ward; not that he would blame him. Or perhaps Harry had actually been hurt that day in Diagon Alley and he had thus been unable to write back. Several over theories – many quite untenable – had gone through his mind over the intervening days.

Suddenly, the sound of Hedwig hopping off of the coffee table and taking a perch on the back of his armchair drew him from his thoughts. Giving the owl a quick pet, causing her to coo in satisfaction, he turned his attention back to the envelope, carefully opening the seal and withdrawing the letter from within.

_To__ Mr Lupin_

_Firstly I would like to apologise for the delay in my reply. It has been two weeks now and all I can say is that things have been rather busy and Harry and I have been working out some personal issues. Nothing worrying I assure you, merely trying to come to terms with our new situations._

_I was quite glad to hear you are eager for the position as was my associate. There are a number of things we need to discuss before you are hired however, the first being the subject of pay._

_In addition to the average Ministry-approved wage for a combined nurse and tutor, as well as an extra tutors wage for the time spent on lessons with Harry, I would like to offer to provide you with monthly Wolfsbane potion as well as room and board at Potter Manor._

At that Remus paused, staring at the parchment in his hands in shock. Not only was this Evan Potter offering to help ease the horror of the transformations he went through monthly, he was offering to let him live with them; to live where his cub was at. It was like a dream come true but unfortunately he knew he would not accept.

There were two things Remus disliked more than anything else – other than prejudiced bigotry that is. Those two things were pity and charity. He wanted none of the former and he refused to accept the latter.

He could not know whether or not this generous offer was out of pity or not without meeting the man, although he hoped not. There was no denying though, that on top of the wages that were being offered, this could not be anything but charity.

Sighing sadly, he consigned himself to writing back in refusal of the two extra benefits he had been offered, a much as it pained him to give up the opportunity to actually live with Harry. Slumping down into his seat he continued reading.

_Unfortunately, my __associate informs me that you are not the sort of man to accept so much willingly. For this reason we at first considered offering you a lowered rate of pay, supplemented by the two benefits previously mentioned._

_On second thought however, and since I myself would be the one providing the potion, room and board, we decided to make a different offer. You will still be payed the average Ministry-approved wage for the nurse and tutor position you fill for my associate's son. Harry's lesson's however you will perform without a payed wage, being supplied with the potion, room and board instead._

_I greatly hope these conditions meet with your approval. If they do, send Hedwig back with your acceptance – or rejection if that is the unfortunate case._

_Hoping you accept,_

_Evan Adam Potter._

Be the time he reaches the end of the letter, Remus's slumped posture is gone and he is sitting up straight, staring at the letter in a little awe. To say he was happy that Mr Potter had provided an alternate pay arrangement would be an understatement. He was ecstatic, knowing he would no longer need to refuse the offered Wolfsbane and room at Potter Manor.

He did wonder for a moment that the man's associate seemingly knew him so well as to know he would refuse the offer. He realised the associate was the same friend he had mentioned in his previous missive and recalled that he had mentioned she knew him. He wondered if he should be worried at the omission of either her or her son's names or if this Evan Potter had merely forgotten to mention them. Either way, he still planned to accept the man's offer.

Getting up he gave a grimace as he realised he still had tea spilled down the front of his trousers. He quickly dried the dampness with his wand before rustling through a nearby set of drawers, coming up with an envelope, notepad and pen. Sitting back down, he began writing.

_Mr Evan Potte__r,_

_I am glad to hear back from you. I had begun to fear you had changed your mind about wishing to employ me._

_As for your offers, your associate is correct that I would have been unable to accept the one you had initially intended. Your substitutional offer however, I find most satisfactory and accept eagerly._

_On a personal note, I very much look forward to meeting you both and in particular seeing young Harry again._

_Your hopefully future employee,_

_Remus J. Lupin._

Looking the letter over twice, satisfied with how it sounded, he tore the page from the pad and folded it neatly in thirds before sealing it into the envelope. Standing up, he turned around to the obviously intelligent owl who already had her leg extended and attached the envelope to her.

"There you go girl. Take that back to your master."

She gave a quick affirming hoot, before jumping from her perch and gliding out the still open window. Remus stood watching her fly off, hoping that he would see her again – with another letter – very soon.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	17. Back to the Alley

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Tada! A SUPER long chappie for you all. Hopefully makes up for the pathetically short last one._

_Also, thanks to '_il'_, '_bargavl'_, '_pottersparky'_, '_Mysical2249',_ '_Oblivious One', _'_Pretty Lily Potter' _and '_Cocoa Girl' _who all offered ideas for spells on the Family Rings. I didn't use them all I'm afraid, but thanks for all your suggestions all the same._

_(Also, I topped 200 reviews. Go me!)_

**Chapter 17 – Back to the Alley**

– _Mon, 28/3/1988_ –

As he had promised Harry, Evan got straight to work the next day on learning glamour charms so that the two of them might go freely in public. A soon as breakfast finished he had headed for the Manor's immense library, Harry trotting along at his heels.

The library – much like the rest of the house – practically screamed of wealth and elegance. The room soared over two stories high, topped with a vaulted ceiling painted as a clouded sky with flocks of hippogriff flying across it. Above the lower part of the bookshelves, the higher kept books could only be reached either by levitation charm or one of the ladders scattered about the room which ran alongside the bookshelves on track and rollers.

# The bookshelves themselves were of some unidentifiable wood, stained an olive green with gilded gold details. They lined the entirety of the room, but for the few arched spaces along the eastern wall from which gauzy cream coloured curtains hung, covering story-high glass windows.

The centre of the room was bare of bookcases, filled instead with matching green tables and brown leather upholstered chairs. The chairs themselves were the sort which were firm enough for sitting down to study yet comfortable enough to lounge in reading a novel.

As the boys entered the room through the great double doors, Harry immediately raced to one of the upholstered chairs, flinging himself into it and began reading the book that had been tucked under his arm. For his part, Evan gave a chuckle at the display – as well as the way his cousin's attention was now avidly fixed to the page – before wandering towards the bookshelves.

His plan had been to pull out random books until he found a section that seemed to be focused on the topic he was searching for. Unfortunately, the books were not cooperating. At times they seemed to be arranged by subject, at others by title or author, but for the most part they seemed to be filed completely at random.

It was a good half hour later and Evan was becoming quite frustrated with his inability to find what he was looking for. He was just about to give up and floo to Diagon Alley to simply buy his own books on the subject, when an idea occurred to him.

"Kell!" he called aloud.

'_Pop_'

"Master Evan called for Kell?" the aged elf inquired.

He saw from the corner of his eye that Harry's head had popped up at the commotion and he was listening in.

"Yes Kell. Sorry if I bothered you I just had a question."

"It is no bother; Kell likes to serve. What question did Master have?"

"Well, I was looking for any books on glamour charms or other methods of disguise. Unfortunately this library seems to have no sort of order at all," he said, running a frustrated hand through his hair before throwing the house-elf a pleading look, "I was hoping – since you've lived here so long – that you might have some sort of idea where I could find the books I'm looking for?"

"Well, Kell might have some idea," he conceded before adding, "But Master would have more luck with the Index."

"Index?" he asked in confusion.

"Yes, Master. It is kept here."

The old house-elf hobbled over to the bookcase to the left of the doors, withdrawing the book on the bottom shelf on the very left. By the time he had reached it, Harry had abandoned his seat and come over to see what the elf had found. Turning around, Kell held the book out for Evan to take.

Accepting the book he looked it over, bending down so Harry could see it also. It was quite slim, bound in dark brown leather. On the front the word '_Index_' was embossed in a fancy, sweeping hand. Opening the volume, he was surprised to find only one aged page within the covers. On that page – in the same hand as the cover title – was written '_Index for the Library of Potter Manor, Think and Ye Shall Receive_'. He looked at Kell in confusion.

"I don't understand."

"It is just as it says Master. You holds the book and thinks of that which you want, and the Index shows you."

Still uncertain but willing to give it a try, he closed the Index and held it, closing his eyes and thinking about glamour charms and other methods of disguise. He was feeling rather foolish about the whole thing and was about to stop when he felt the book suddenly grow in his hands. Snapping his eyes open, he looked down to see that the book was now perhaps a finger thick, holding far more than the single page it did before. Flipping it open, the first page was the same but the second had written upon it '_Glamour Charms and Other Methods of Disguise_'. Flicking through the pages following he saw a number of titles of books that seemed to be what he was looking for.

"This is brilliant," said Harry, looking a little awed and a lot excited at the find.

"Yeah, it is," he agreed, "But this still doesn't tell us where these books are shelved."

"Master need only touch his finger to a title and say 'show' to find the book."

"Can I do it? Can I please?" Harry begged, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Evan took one look at the puppy-dog face he was being treated to before chuckling and handing him the Index, rolling his eyes as he did so. Harry meanwhile, ignored his expression and accepted the book eagerly, laying his finger against the first book on the list.

"Show!" he announced.

There was a pause for a second and then suddenly a light flashed in the library. Both Potter boys look in surprise at a bookcase across the way. One of the books was intermittently flashing with a red light.

"Oh!" Harry exclaimed, before running over and retrieving the book.

As soon as he removed the book from the shelf it stopped flashing. The boy took one look at the title before looking back over at the other two.

"It's the one we were looking for," he yelled triumphantly from across the room.

"Great. Put it back where it was and bring us the Index."

Harry hurried back and handed over the Index.

"If Kell may suggest?" the elf suddenly spoke up.

"Of course," Evan said, "What is it?"

"If Masters is wanting to know hows to use best, Master should be holding Index and wishing to see the instructions," he said before giving a bow and disappearing with a '_Pop_'.

Both boy boys blinked at the abrupt departure, the younger one gathering himself again the quickest.

"Can we look at the instructions?"

"Sure," he acquiesced, "Let's go take a seat at one of the tables first though."

They both sat down at the nearest table – Harry having to sit on his knees to see over the edge – and Evan laid the Index out before them.

"You want to do the honours?" he asked with a grin.

He received a nod and a responding grin in return. The little boy grabbed the book tightly in both hands and screwed his eyes shut.

"Instructions, instructions, instructions…" Evan could hear him murmuring under his breath.

Finally satisfied, Harry opened his eyes and laid the book back down, opening it to the first page. Seeing that it was the same as always, he opened it to the second and grinned at what he saw.

"'Instructions for the Use of the Index'," Evan read aloud the title then turned to the next page, both the boys bending forward to read.

_**Listing Books**_

_Simply hold the Index in your hands and focus on the desired book._

_Your can search this way for title, author, subject, publisher, year of print, date added to the Library, who added it to the Library, mention of a name or place or creature, or other in the text, etc. etc._

_All in all, you can search by any piece of information the Index has recorded._

_**Finding Books**_

_Once the Index is listing the book you wish to find, simply touch the entry and say 'Show'. The book itself will begin flashing red, advertising it's location in the library._

_If the book is not in the library, it can be recalled (see recalling books)._

_To stop the flashing, either retrieve the book or touch the entry again and say 'End Show'._

_**Hiding Books**_

_The Index can be used to hide books which the Family Head wishes to either keep private or prevent younger eyes from seeing. Only the bearer of the Head Ring may use this function._

_Simply call up the book you wish hidden in the listing and touch the entry with your finger saying 'Hide'. This will make the book invisible and unable to be called or seen in the Index by anyone not bearing the Head Ring._

_To unhide the book, the process is the same but the codeword is 'Unhide'._

_Note: The Family Head can view all books currently hidden by focusing on them to list them in the usual manner._

_**Showing Details**_

_To show further details for a listed book, touch the entry and say 'Details'._

_All details the Index has recorded will be shown._

_To return to the previous list, touch the page and say 'Return'._

_**Adding Books**_

_The spell's incantation is 'Adlibellus' and the wand movement is a single swirl followed by a sharp jab._

_Simply lay the new book directly atop the Index and perform this spell. The index will absorb all information it can from the book. Next, open the Index to the second page. A list of questions not answered by the book (such as how the book was acquired) will be listed. Simply fill in the answers you can with a quill and ink then close the Index._

_The Index and new book should glow yellow briefly indicating the procedure is successful. Your new book can now be filed._

_**Removing Books**_

_The spell's incantation is 'Sublibellus' and the wand movement is a sharp jab followed by a single swirl._

_Follow the same method as when adding a book; lay the book upon the Index and perform the spell._

_The Index and new book should glow yellow briefly indicating the procedure is successful._

_**Recalling Books**_

_This spell recalls a book or books not within the library._

_First, call up the title to be listed in the Index. Then, touch the entry and say 'Recall'._

_To recall all missing books, say 'Total Recall'._

_Recalled book/s should appear piled on a clear surface nearest the Index._

"Well, that's neat," Evan said understatedly, finishing first.

"It's brilliant," Harry agreed, finishing a few moments later, "Can I use it to find a good book to read before you start doing the disguise stuff?"

"Sure, go ahead.

"Great!" the smaller boy grabbed the book and closed his eyes, mumbling under his breath, "Pranks, pranks, pranks…"

"I should've known," Evan groaned but his younger self just threw him a grin.

"Wow! Look at them all."

Leaning over the boy's shoulder, he took in the rather long list. A sneaking suspicion entering his mind, he reached a hand forward and touched the first entry.

"'Details'," he said.

The both watched as an in depth record of information about the book began showing itself. Harry gazed curiously at Evan's finger as it wandered the page before stopping suddenly at the 'Added By' section.

"Aha, James Potter. Now, 'Return'," his finger trailed down to the next entry, "'Details'."

He continued this to halfway down the page, finding that nearly all of them were added by James Potter.

"James Potter. Isn't that-"

"Our dad," Evan nodded then rolled his eyes, "I figured he might be the one to add all these books."

"How'd you guess?"

"That's easy. James Potter along with his friends were all pranksters."

"Really?" Harry's eyes lit up.

"Really. They were quite brilliant too from what I've heard. Their group became a bit famous for their pranks."

"Wow," Evan watched the thoughts flicker across the other boy's face and wondered what he was thinking, "Well, I'm gonna be a famous prankster too, just like him."

Harry looked so terribly proud at that declaration that Evan had not the heart to deny him. Instead he merely gave a melodramatic sigh.

"I'm not going to be able to talk you out of this am I?"

"Nope," he shook his head, crossing his little arms firmly over his chest.

"Well," his mournful look changed to a grin, "If you're going to do something you should do it right. Hurry up and pick out some good books."

"Yay!" the smiling boy began touching a number of entries in the book, "'Show', and 'Show', and hmm, 'Show'. That should do it. Here you go."

Evan accepted the Index as it was hastily handed to him and watched Harry flit about the room, retrieving the three flashing books. Shaking his head and smiling he turned his attention back to his own search.

..ooOOoo..

A few hours later they had taken a break for lunch and Evan had returned alone to the library. Another several hours later in his search he had stumbled upon a _very_ interesting book; '_The Potter Grimoire_'.

The grimoire was a record of all spells, potions and rituals that had ever been created by a member of the Potter family. Although some of the magics had been released to the public, most of them remained family secrets still to this day. So secret in fact that the grimoire kept the only written information on them and the book was only readable by those bearing a Potter ring.

The reason this was of particular interest to Evan – apart from the obvious – lay in a certain charm.

In the early nineteenth century, one Robert Potter invented a specialised glamour charm. What made this glamour so unique was that it was keyed to the caster's magical signature. This meant that although the countercharm was still a simple 'Finite Incantatem', only someone with the same magical signature as the caster could end the spell. Thus it had to be done by either the original caster or someone able to duplicate magical signatures. However, given that the latter was to this very day considered magically impossible, it made the charm close to unbreakable short of bringing in a professional curse breaker.

..ooOOoo..

– _Wed, 30/3/1988_ –

Evan had spent the next few days learning and quickly mastering the charm. Whilst he sometimes struggled with the theory of magic he was always decent at its practical use – especially when he had a need to learn the spell. The Patronus and Summoning charms were both prime examples of that. Thus it was that he was unsurprised to have learnt the spell so quickly.

Since he had nothing else to do and wanted to put his newly learnt spell to practical use, he had decided that they would today finish the shopping trip that had ended so abruptly two Sundays past. Also, if the worst were to happen and the glamours failed, they would be shopping on a weekday during work hours, so there would be fewer people about than the busy Sunday they had faced the last time.

The two Potter boys were at this moment standing in Evan's bathroom, in front of the full length mirror. The elder boy once again had to resist the urge to chuckle as he took in the younger's outfit – rainbow striped tights covered with blue shorts, a bright yellow singlet top and a light blue tie with animated white fluffy clouds.

Evan shook his head and looked away, bringing his focus back to the task at hand.

"Okay, I'm going to cast the spell on you now. You remember how this'll work?" he asked and Harry nodded his head.

"I have to keep real still and when you're done, I'll look like another person."

"Exactly. Are you ready?"

He went to nod before holding still instead and making a 'mhmm' sound. Giving the littler boy a quick smile, Evan pointed his wand, concentrating on the image he wanted.

"_Magus Subcriptio Glamourie_!"

He watched in fascination as Harry's appearance blurred, changing into the one he had imagined, before smoothing out.

"Wow!" Harry stared wide-eyed at his reflection, running his hands over his face.

Evan had chosen to give his cousin sandy blonde curls and bright blue eyes. He had resisted the urge to make any further changes such as to his build or facial structure for two main reasons. Firstly, Harry's image was not yet well known in the wizarding world, given that he had been gone absent from it for so long, and thus such changes were unnecessary. Secondly, the more complicated the image he created, the more likely it was to have flaws since creating a glamour depends a great deal on concentration and visualization.

Inspecting his cousin's new image and finding no flaws, he nodded in satisfaction at his work and then concentrated on his own glamour. Studying his reflection, he focused on giving himself shoulder length brown hair and bright blue eyes to match Harry's.

"_Magus Subcriptio Glamourie_!" he cast.

He watched as his image blurred momentarily before settling into exactly the image he had wanted. He tilted his head every which way to ensure there were no flaws before giving a grin.

"You got your hat?"

He watched as Harry grabbed up the pointed wizard hat from the floor where it had been abandoned and jammed it on his head. It was bright blue. Harry insisted it matched his outfit.

"You have the same eyes as me!" Harry exclaimed suddenly.

"That's because our disguise is that we're brothers."

"Oh," Harry nodded his head in understanding, "What are our names going to be? Can I be Bob again?"

"Best not," at the disappointed expression he explained, "Someone might have heard or figured out that we used that name last time. We can't risk using it again."

"Oh, okay," he gave an understanding sound.

"So, why don't you pick us out some new names?"

"Both of us? I can pick yours too?" he asked excitedly.

"Yep. Come on, you can think while we head down to the floo."

"Okay, I'll think up some really good ones."

"I'm sure you will."

The two boys headed off, Evan grabbing his Gringotts key on the way out of his bedroom. Harry made humming and hawing sounds the whole way down. Finally they reached the entrance hall and the boy clapped his hands together.

"I've got it!"

"Alright. Let's hear them."

"I'll be Elvis and you be Barney!"

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other, Harry looking quite proud and Evan looking rather perturbed.

"If you ever get married," he mumbled, "Remind me to tell your wife not to let you name the kids."

"Huh?"

"Nothing!" he forced himself to smile, "Brilliant names Elvis."

At the brilliant grin he received for the compliment, he found his smile no longer needed to be forced.

"Okay now we need a surname," he said, hurrying to suggest a nice ordinary one before Harry picked one himself, "How about Jackson?"

He watched as the little boy's nose automatically scrunched up before he smoothed it out. He watched with amusement as Harry tried to look agreeable.

"That's a very nice name," he said, patting Evan on the arm in a manner that was no doubt meant to seem supportive but actually came across as condescending.

He turned his head away briefly to hide his amused snort, taking the opportunity to take a pinch of floo powder from the urn held out by Gully; the house-elves took turns seeing them off and it seemed it was his turn today.

"Okay!" he said, "Ready to give this shopping thing another try?"

"Yep."

And so they flooed away with a 'whoosh'.

They were both emptied out at the Leaky Cauldron's fireplace as they had wished, only just managing to stay upright. Giving a casual wave to Tom the barkeep – and ignoring the strange look he threw Harry's outfit – they headed out to the courtyard. From there they then went through the archway into Diagon Alley where Evan gave Harry a moment to take everything in – not having had much time to do so last time.

"Come on," he said, taking the younger boy's hand in his, "Let's go get us both some decent shoes first."

It only took them five minutes before finding a decent looking cobbler. 'Shamus' Shoes' the sign proclaimed the store to be called. Heading towards the shop, they entered through the door to the tinkling of a bell.

"Be with you in a moment!" a hoarse voice called from the back of the shop.

Both boys took the opportunity to look around. There were shelves all around the store displaying shoes of all sizes and styles. Up near the counter there were also a number of leather items such as belts and wallets. Just then a somewhat elderly man with steel grey hair and a muscled physique entered through a back door and stepped out from behind the counter. He smiled at his customers with friendly brown eyes.

"Hi I'm Shamus. What can I do for you?" he asked in a scratchy voice.

"Hi, my brother Elvis and I were wanting to get some new shoes. As you can see from the ones we're wearing, we rather overdue replacing them."

Shamus looked down at his feet and frowned.

"Well I'll say. So what are you looking for?"

He looked to his side to see what Harry wanted first before seeing that the boy had wandered off to one of the shelves, studying its contents.

"Elvis, come over here. What're you looking at?"

Harry glanced his way before picking up what he'd been looking at and bringing it over to them. He stood before them with both arms outstretched, a pair of boots standing presented on his palms.

"Aren't they brilliant?" he said with a wide smile.

Evan took in the fluoro green, knee-high boots with their bright pink satin laces and found he didn't know whether to laugh or cry. Shamus it seemed had no such quandary and gave a hearty, rumbling chuckle.

"So, you like them ones do you?" the storeman asked and Harry nodded rapidly, "Well what do you think sir? Can your little brother try them on?"

Evan took in Harry's hopeful expression and gave a defeated sigh. There was no way he could say no to that face. He simply nodded to the store owner who gave another rumbling laugh and helped Harry try on the boots.

Half an hour and many laughs later they had both finished making their selections. Just like with clothes shopping, Evan's choices had all been stylish yet simple. He had mostly picked out practical shoes in blacks and some browns although he did pick out a rather cool pair of calf high dragon skin boots. Harry on the other hand had gone for anything bright and colourful or wild and wacky. Evan had managed to convince him to buy one pair of practical black flats but that was all. Shamus, the bastard, found the whole thing vastly amusing.

Waving goodbye to the still grinning store keeper they headed back out the door and into the Alley.

"Where to next Barney?" Harry asked loudly, in high spirits at having so much new stuff.

Several witches and wizards looked their way at the shout, laughing as they took in the sandy-haired boy's attire. Evan even heard a few of the giggling witches muttering amongst themselves that the boy was 'so cute'. Harry was of course oblivious to it all.

"Hmm, how about glasses?"

"Glasses?"

"Yeah. I don't remember the last time I had my prescription checked. Plus we can get some new frames."

"Okay."

After wandering up and down Diagon Alley for a good ten minutes they finally asked for help and were given directions to 'Eye Spy'. The optometrist shop was a tiny little building set back from the road and squeezed in between 'Ollivander's' and a second-hand robe shop. Therefore, it was not entirely surprising they couldn't find it easily on their own.

As soon as they entered the shop they were greeted by an over exuberant middle-aged woman with bright purple hair. Harry of course found that delightful and told her so. The woman was immediately smitten.

After sitting them both down, Taffy – that was supposedly the witch's name – cast a diagnostic charm into their eyes and immediately declared their current prescriptions as insufficient.

"Now why don't you both try on some frames and pick the ones you want then I'll add the correct lenses. I'll even throw those hideous one's you're wearing now away for you, little Elvie," she cooed at Harry, "There're far too ugly for such a colorful little boy."

Evan himself ended up picking out three frames. One was a thin rectangular frame in silver, the next were elliptical in emerald green and the last were thick, black and rectangular.

As for Harry, Evan had braced himself for the worst and thus wasn't too terribly surprised by the four he chose. The first had a thick, plastic, rectangular frame that was half black and half white, with a little black flower stuck to the upper corner of the white side. The second ones were elliptical, done in swirls of red and purple, and the third pair was of all things star shaped, coloured violet. He was however pleasantly surprised by the last, which were sedate, emerald green half frames. Until that is, Harry spoke up.

"Taffy says she can make the glass pink for the green ones!"

He should've expected something like that.

"Now I'll just take these to the back room to add the lenses. First though, do you want any charms added to them, Mr Barney?" Taffy asked Evan, knowing the decision would be up to him.

"What kind of charms?" he asked.

"Well there's the usual ones; unbreakable on the glass and non-breaking on the frames, as well as a water repelling charm and an inbuilt summoning one for when you forget when you've put them."

"Those all sound good," he nodded watching as she marked that down on a spare piece of parchment, "What are the not so usual ones."

"Well, the others you can get are a might more expensive," she paused.

"That's fine. I can afford it."

"Right then."

She grinned and began rolling off a list of other charms, some of which sounded useful and others which sounded rather ridiculous. Really, why anyone would want their glasses to sing all twelve verses of 'The Twelve Days of Christmas' was beyond him. Once she had finished he considered all the options.

"Firstly can I get the charms to see through invisibility cloaks, glamours, and invisibility and camouflaging spells?"

"You certainly can young man," Taffy chirped.

"Can I also get the one to stop them coming off unless you remove them yourself as well as the options for night vision and the zoom in vision? That's it I think."

"Absolutely. And do you want that on all the glasses?"

"All of mine, yes. Put all the basic ones on Elvis's but other than that only add the one to stop them from coming off," he heard a disappointed sigh and looked around to see his cousin looking quite sad, "What's wrong Elvis?"

"Nothing. It's just…" he hesitated.

"Come on. Tell me."

"Those extra charms would've been so good for pranks," he pouted.

The storewitch began giggling and Evan rolled his eyes. He gave the boy a considering look, taking in the pouting expression before giving in.

"Fine, you can have all the same charms as me. But!" he yelled over Harry's cheer, "Only for one of the pairs."

"You heard your big brother dearie," the witch smiled at him, "Which ones will it be?"

Harry bit his lip looking thoughtful before deciding on the green ones which would have pink lenses and Taffy took the frames to the back room. Less than ten minutes later she had returned with their now finished glasses and Evan paid the bill.

He and Harry each picked out one pair to wear – the silver rectangular ones for the elder and the red and purple for the younger – whilst the rest went shrunk and lightened into Evan's pocket like the rest of their purchases.

Their next stop was 'Honeydukes' but Evan got distracted on the way by a shop edging into Knockturn Alley. Keeping a firm grip on Harry's hand he kept on walking, promising himself he would come back here sometime.

Harry had a ball in the sweet shop. The Dursleys had never allowed him such luxuries so he was very excited at being able to buy some. Evan felt the same. Years of being deprived of junk food had given him an intense appreciation for all things sugary. It Harry's reactions to the taste tests he charmed out of one of the serving ladies was anything to go by, he too would share Evan's sweet tooth.

The fellow behind the counter seemed to take the mounds of sweets they were purchasing in stride and Evan handed over the extra galleons to have their purchases packed in temperature regulating bags – neither Potter wanted any of their goodies to melt.

After Honeydukes, Harry begged to be allowed to visit 'Gambol and Japes'. Evan once again caved and allowed it. He wondered briefly to himself if he was overindulging his young charge before waving the concern aside. For one he wasn't letting the boy do anything dangerous. Secondly, this _was_ Harry's proper visit to Diagon Alley and first time shopping for things himself – the last halted attempt didn't count – and it was not as though he intended to spend so much on him every time they went out. In fact he meant not to. His Harry deserved a little pampering to make up for all he had missed out on at the Dursley's but he wouldn't let it go so far as spoiling him.

They ended up leaving the joke shop with a very large bag full of prank items which were shrunken down, lightened and pocketed just like all the others. Harry was chattering away at a mile a minute, telling Evan about all the items he bought and how they could be used and how he couldn't wait to tell Neville all about them.

"I think we've got everything I planned to get by now," Evan commented and was surprised when Harry stopped still and looked at him with wide, wet eyes, biting on his lower lip, "What is it? What's wrong?"

"We're not going to the book shop?" his voice quivered and Evan turned into putty.

"Oh, of course we can," he said kneeling down and giving the boy a hug, "We'll go there right now. How's that?"

Harry nodded, looking pleased. A little too pleased perhaps. Evan stared at him suspiciously for a moment before his eyes widened and he leaned back in shock.

"You just staged that whole thing didn't you?" he accused.

A light blush covered the sandy-haired boy's cheeks, as though confirming his suspicions. He looked up at his elder cousin through lowered lashes, fiddling with his tie with his hands.

"Maybe," he said, his face a somehow perfect mixture of shyness and mischief.

Evan gave a disbelieving yet amused laugh.

"Scamp!" he accused and received an impish grin in return, "If you didn't have that hat on I'd be ruffling your hair right now."

Harry's hands immediately flew to the pointed headdress, jamming it more firmly down his brow.

"Well, good thing I do then," he said cheekily and skipped off towards the bookshop giggling, Evan following after him.

After a little bargaining and pointing out to the younger boy that they did indeed have an extensive library at home already, Evan agreed to let him pick out five books to take home. He himself wandered through the aisles, browsing the titles but making sure to keep Harry in sight at all times.

He was distractedly looking through a small section in the back of the store when a title caught his eye. '_The Mind Arts – A Guide to Occlumency and Legilimency_'. Immediately he swore under his breath but quickly stopped at the evil look a witch nearby was giving him for his colourful language.

He picked up the book and stomped over to where Harry was looking through the books on jinxes, thinking to himself all the while. He couldn't believe he had been so stupid. How could he have forgotten that both Dumbledore and Snape were proficient Legilimens? And given what he knew of both their characters, he very much doubted either had any compunction about using said skill freely.

He knew he would have to return to Hogwarts eventually – although how that would work with Harry needing looked after he did not yet know. The moment Dumbledore realised who he was supposed to be he would be delving through his thoughts with abandon. Snape similarly would need only hear his last name and see his resemblance to his childhood rival and would attack without care.

If that happened, the secret of who he truly was and where he came from would be revealed. The thought of either of those Professors having that sort of leverage over him – and in turn Harry – made him shiver.

And on the subject of Harry, there was the obvious fact that he would be attending Hogwarts himself in just over three years. And that didn't even take into account the possibility of a confrontation with the old man occurring sooner than he expected, or even the possibility of some random Legilimens in the street picking up the right – that is to say wrong – thoughts from them and becoming curious.

He nodded his head firmly, coming to a decision. It was settled; both he and his younger self needed to learn to defend their minds as soon as they possibly could. The only question was how. He had this book he had just found and no doubt there would be other in their library at home – it seemed to cover every other subject.

The problem was that he had gotten the impression that one needed an attacker to defend against to learn the art properly. As much as he wanted to dismiss that as just another untruth the old man had perpetrated, it unfortunately made logical sense to him.

So, a teacher it was then. But where to get one? Suddenly the memory of a conversation he had with Jarnack came to mind. 'You also need to be aware that if you need assistance in some matter, be it financial, legal or otherwise you can come to me and be assured of privacy. Gringotts does most anything they can to keep their important customers happy,' his account goblin had told him.

He turned the thought over in his mind before deciding that asking Jarnack for assistance in this matter was his best option. Not only was he oath bound to keep his secrets, the goblin had proved himself to be resourceful and quite helpful to him in the past. Hopefully he would be able to help them find a suitable instructor who could be convinced to keep quiet.

A tugging at his cloak brought him out of his musings. He looked down to see Harry staring up at him, the five books he held looking quite heavy for his little arms.

"I'm done," the boy announced.

"Here, let me take some of those."

He grabbed all but one of the books from his young charge then settled a hand on his shoulder, leading him towards the counter. After the six books between them had been payed for, lightened, shrunk and pocketed, they stepped back out into the Alley and headed towards the bank.

"Where are we going now?" the little boy holding his hand asked, skipping along at his side, "I thought you said before the book place that we were done?"

"I need to stop by Gringotts."

"Really?" he asked rather excitedly, earning him a confused look.

"I thought you were a bit nervous around the goblins? At least you were last time."

"Oh, I was. But then we went on the cart ride and the goblin made it go so fast and it was so much fun," the boy babbled happily.

"So you like them because they have cart rides?" he asked sceptically.

"Yep," he nodded, "Because anyone with such a fun thing like that can't be bad."

Whilst he wasn't sure he agreed with the logic of that, he could see how a child might think such a thing. 'Oh well,' he thought, 'So long as it stops him worrying about them'.

They both entered the wizard's bank – looking exactly as it ever did – and stepped into line at the 'Assistance Desk' queue. A few moments later and a short conversation with the goblin behind the desk, the two of them were being led down the twisted path to the Potter Office. Their guide left them at the door without a word so Evan raised his fist and gave a sharp knock.

"Enter," there came a harsh voice from behind the door.

Opening the door he stepped into the room, his charge following along behind. The goblin working behind the desk looked up to see who his guests were.

"And you are? Ah, a glamour. I see now, you are Mr Potter and," he sent a piercing look at Harry who shifted self-consciously, "The other Mr Potter."

"Jarnack, good to see you again," he said politely, only receiving a sneer in return.

"Well don't just stand there with the door wide open. Close it and take a seat."

He closed the door as instructed and then both Potter boys took a seat. Realising he should introduce Harry, he turned to him and spoke.

"Harry, this is the Potter account manager Jarnack. I think I told you about him before?"

The boy looked thoughtful before his eyes widened and he stared at the goblin.

"You're the one who helped Evan get me away from the Dursleys!" he exclaimed and received an affirming nod.

A wide grin spread across the little boy's face and a second later he shot out of his chair and over to where Jarnack was sat. He then surprised all present by reaching up on tiptoe and giving the fellow a firm hug.

"Thank you, Thank you, Thank you…" he chanted.

After a moment Evan managed to drag his jaw off the floor and noticed the expression on his account manager's face. He had to bite his fist to keep from laughing aloud. The ever collected Jarnack looked utterly flabbergasted. He watched as the goblin finally collected himself enough to pat his 'attacker' awkwardly on the back.

"You're… welcome?" he said unsurely.

A snicker managed to break free from behind Evan's fist and Harry – not usually one to be so openly affectionate with strangers – suddenly seemed to realise what he was doing. He backed away looking embarrassed, retaking his seat beside his cousin with a pink blush on his cheeks. They all sat there in silence for a long moment.

"Er, sorry?" Harry whispered in apology, cheeks staining even redder.

"There is no need to apologise little one," Jarnack said, finally regaining control, "I shall take the gesture in the spirit in which it was intended. And as I said, you are most welcome."

Harry looked up shyly and, deciding the goblin was being genuine, regained his wide smile. Evan meanwhile, looked between the two in disbelief. Jarnack was actually polite and seemed to be acting – dare he even say it – somewhat nice. The goblin noticed his look and seemed to understand his thoughts as he proceeded to give him a smirk, raising a condescending eyebrow, before turning back to Harry and softening his expression. This of course only confused the elder Potter all the more and he got the distinct impression from the glint in his account manager's eye that that was entirely the point. Shaking his head and vowing not to think on it, he decided to get down to business.

"Well, I actually came to ask for help since I remembered you saying to come to you if I ever needed assistance – financially, legally or otherwise – and it would be kept private," he explained to Jarnack who straightened up, adopting a businesslike expression.

"And which would that be?" at the confused expression that garnered he added, "Financially, legally or otherwise?"

"Oh! Right, well I suppose it's 'otherwise'."

"Very well. What can I do for you then Mr Potter?"

"Well, the thing is that I've told Harry the whole truth about me but I've only just realised I forgot to take into consideration the fact that both Dumbledore and Snape are masters at Legilimency."

"Ah, I see. I take it then that you are in need of training in Occlumency?"

"Yes, for the both of us. And rather desperately too."

"I think I can help you out," he said, nodding his head and looking as though he were turning possibilities over in his head, "Yes, yes I can. I will need a few days – a week at most – to contact a suitable tutor with the usual guarantees."

"That sounds good," Evan sighed, relieved that Jarnack could help him out before thinking to ask, "The usual guarantees?"

"Ah yes," the goblin shifted nervously, "From what you told me of your lessons with Mr Snape I believe you never received them."

"Jarnack," he said firmly, a horrible suspicion forming in his mind, "You're avoiding the question."

A sigh, "You see, the usual guarantees a mind arts tutor provides are a magically binding oath not to reveal any information discovered or to use it against the student, as well as agreement to be obliviated of all knowledge gained once the lessons are complete."

Harry's expression turned dark and for the second time in this office he turned his frustrations onto his chair, turning it into matchsticks. By the time he calmed down Jarnack was giving him a disapproving expression and with a toss of his head indicated he should look to Harry. He was immediately ashamed as he saw the boy was crouching down in his seat, arms tightly gripping the armrests and a confused and apprehensive expression on his face.

Immediately he flicked his wand at the remains of the chair muttering a soft '_Reparo'_, before putting the now whole chair back in its place. Sitting down he reached over to his younger cousin and gently uncurled the small hand closest to him from its death grip on the chair.

"I'm sorry about that Harry," he apologized, "I shouldn't have lost my temper like that in front of you."

He then squeezed Harry's now released hand gently in one of his own, laying the other softly on the back of his hair and gently kissed his forehead. Harry relaxed immediately and squeezed his hand back before taking advantage of the momentary silence to ask a question that had been bothering him throughout the earlier conversation.

"What's Occa- Occule-"

"Occlumency," Jarnack supplied.

"Yes that. And – Legamacy?"

"Legilimency," said Evan.

"Yes, what are they?"

"If I may?" Jarnack said and Evan nodded in assent, "Legilimency is the ability to extract emotions and memories from another person's mind."

"Like mind reading?" Harry asked and received a noncommittal 'hmm'.

"Not precisely. Most practitioners of the art are rather reluctant to call it as such since the mind is hardly so simple and organized that it could be read like a book. However, in simple terms yes, it is somewhat like mind reading; although far more complex than that in practice."

As Harry considered that, a confusing thought occurred to Evan.

"Then what's the difference between an Empath and a Legilimens. I never actually thought about it when she told me, but a friend of mine is one and she described it as the ability to sense other people's emotions and sometimes strong thoughts."

"Well for one thing," Jarnack explained, "Empaths are born as such whilst a Legilimens must be trained. Even so, there are both quite different abilities. The key difference is the emotion component. Empaths cannot naturally read thoughts, only emotions. The only time they hear actual thoughts is when a person's emotions are strong enough that brief thoughts are imprinted upon them."

"So empathy is like a part of Legilimency then? The reading of emotions part?"

"No, both are entirely different forms of 'reading'. They are only related in that they give similar results. Proof of this is that whilst Occlumency can keep a Legilimens from ones thoughts and emotions, it does nothing to stop an Empath."

"Is there a way to stop an Empath then?" he asked curiously.

"Yes," he said simply and there was a pause before Evan sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Would you tell me what it is then?" he asked and was unsurprised as the goblin smirked at having made him ask.

"There are only six known methods. The first is to leave the Empath's vicinity."

"Well I could've figured that one out," he commented

He immediately quieted at the look he received for interrupting. Harry seemed to find the whole byplay between them amusing as he merely giggled causing Evan to pout.

"The second method," Jarnack continued, "Is to distract the Empath. The third is to overload the Empath with the emotions of many people so that he or she is unable to pick out a singular person. Some consider this the same as distracting them. The fourth method is to render the Empath unconscious. The fifth is to see the Empath killed," he ignored the gasps of dismay this suggestion elicited, "The last is to suppress one's emotions to such a degree that there are none to read. This can be done through use of potions or – and there are claims of this working though no solid proof – through deep meditation."

"Hmm," Evan just said taking it all in, "Sounds like there's no really good way to do it. Guess it's a good thing I happen to trust my friend then huh?"

"Indeed," Jarnack merely said, "Well now that that is settled; is there anything else you wanted to discuss today?"

"No I just came to ask about the Occlumency tutor," he said before a thought occurred to him, "Oh! The rings."

Both the others gave him strange looks.

"The rings?" Jarnack asked slowly and condescendingly, causing him to blush a little before answering.

"What I meant to say was that I was wondering about the charms that are one the Potter family rings," he saw Harry glance at the First Heir Ring he was wearing as he continued to explain, "I know it has the spell-removing one but my friend who I mentioned before told me there should be others on it and that I should ask you what they were."

"Ah yes, one moment."

The goblin then clambered off his seat and opened the bottom drawer of his filing cabinet. After some riffling through the files he pulled out a small blue book about length of a man's hand and only a few pages thick. Climbing back into his seat he presented the book to his client.

"Here you are."

Evan accepted the book and then leaned to the side so that Harry – who was trying to look over his arm – could more easily see it. As he had seen, the book was a mid navy blue in colour and was made of dragon hide of some description. Attached to the centre of the front cover was a small bronze plaque with an equally small version of the Potter crest embossed upon it. Opening the book showed it to contain naught but a few blank pages.

"What's it for?" Harry asked him.

"I'm not sure. Jarnack?"

"This book shows the secrets of the Potter family rings. To show the contents, one must simply press the crest of the Head's Ring over the embossed crest on the cover."

"What's to stop someone other than the Head from using the ring to open the book?" he asked curiously.

"The ring must also be worn on a finger. I believe I have explained to you previously the 'unpleasantness' one might suffer were they to wrongfully wear the ring?" Jarnack smirked rather savagely.

Deciding it might be best not to respond to that, Evan merely closed the book and pressed the face of the ring on his right middle finger into the book's crest. The book seemed to tingle with magic for a moment so he opened it to the first page. On the once blank page there was now writing.

"What does it say? What can our rings do?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Let me see," he began reading, "All rings hold the spell-canceling charm that I've already mentioned. They all can also be programmed as a returning portkey."

"Like the golden key you used to take us to the Manor that first time."

"Yep, that was a portkey."

"Then what's a returning portkey?"

"You know, I'm actually not sure," he looked over to his account manager, "Do you know?"

"Of course I do," was all he said and Evan sighed.

"Then will you tell me," he was forced to say then sent Harry a playful glare for giggling at him.

"A return portkey had two destinations. The first one stays mostly permanent as whatever you set it to. The second changes every time you use it and is set to the last place it left from."

"So if I set this to take me to, say the Leaky Cauldron, and used it now, its second destination would then be set right back to this office where I left from."

"Precisely."

"What else do they do?" Harry asked, drawing his attention back to the book.

"The Head Ring only has a spell which can activate a second portkey on the Heir Rings. It allows the Family Head to call any or all Heir Rings and their wearers to where he is," he gave a considering expression, "This could be very useful if you ever get lost or something happens to you Harry. I'll be able to portkey you to where I am.

"Now, let's see what else we have here. The rings can be used to cast a 'Defendo' shield. I don't think I've ever heard of that one."

"I believe the 'Defendo' was the spell from which the modern-day 'Protego' was derived," Jarnack explained, "The 'Defendo' is not quite as effective at reflecting the stronger spells but apart from that also differs from the 'Protego' in that it also reflects solid items."

As he finished talking Evan stared at him in disbelief.

"How do you know all this random stuff?"

"I know everything," the goblin said arrogantly and Evan rolled his eyes.

"Of course you do," he said disbelievingly and Harry giggled, "Anyway, let's see what else these rings can do. Communication charm? It says it allows mind to mind communication between any two wearers of rings provided both are willing."

"Like a magical telephone!" Harry said enthusiastically and he couldn't help but grin.

"Yeah, it is a bit like that I suppose."

"What else?"

"Let's see, 'Empathic reflections. This spell simulates the readings an Empath receives and conveys them to the wearer'. That's an interesting one. I don't think I'm a terrible judge of character or anything but it can't hurt to be able to tell for sure. Plus I'll be able to tell if you're lying to me."

"But then I'll never get away with anything," Harry's pouted.

"Ah well, you'll just have to try harder," he said jokingly and was a tad worried as he seemed to be taking the comment seriously, "Right. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that. You do realise I meant that as a joke, not as a challenge?"

"Of course."

The little boy said it so innocently that one would think butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. Evan threw him a disbelieving look before continuing on.

"There's just one other spell left. It's- oh!"

He cut off suddenly, looking down at the book with wide eyes. The other two in the room gave him confused looks.

"What is it?" Harry asked, leaning over his arm to try and read for himself.

"It's an artificial Occlumency shield," he said weakly, still in shock.

Jarnack raised a surprised eyebrow and Harry wrinkled his forehead in thought before his expression cleared, showing he understood.

"This means we won't have to learn the Occa- Occla-," he gave a frustrated sound, "The Occy-thing then, doesn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it does."

"One wonders if this particular charm is the reason Mr Dumbledore never saw fit to inform you of your ring in the first place."

Evan frowned, feeling himself become angry again before a comment from Harry brought him up short.

"I though the ring spells was meant to be family secrets."

"Maybe he read it in our Dad's head when he was in school," he theorised.

"And how would he do that when your father was wearing his own ring himself at the time," Jarnack asked condescendingly and Evan flushed in embarrassment at missing such an obvious point.

"Well, maybe Dad hadn't been given the ring yet," he said defensively.

"The Heir Rings are presented to their rightful owner upon their first instance of accidental magic," the goblin said dismissively.

"Well, the whole 'Dumbledore not wanting me to have the ring because it used Occlumency' thing was your idea," Evan pointed out grumpily, "How do you suggest he found out about it then.

"From what I recall James Potter and Sirius Black were as close as brothers. It is possible he told Mr Black and Mr Dumbledore read it from _his_ mind."

"Oh," was all he could think to say.

"Even were that not so, Mr Dumbledore may simply have not wanted you to have the independence bearing the Head Ring would grant you. It does automatically make one emancipated after all."

"True," he nodded in agreement before remembering that he had finished the book, "How do I 'un-reveal' the writing in the book now that I'm finished with it."

"Simply close it."

He did so then reopened the dragon hide cover to find the pages once more blank. Satisfied, he put the book back down on the desk and pushed it toward Jarnack. The goblin immediately accepted it then filed it away before retaking his seat.

"I take it you will no longer be wanting an Occlumency teacher then," Jarnack verified.

"No, no need."

"Very well. Was there anything else I can do for you Mr Potters?"

"No, that was all," Evan said and Harry shook his head, "We'll be heading to the Leaky Cauldron and flooing home now."

Harry wrinkled his nose at that. The boy was as much a fan of floo as a method of travel as he was. He had a feeling that when he finally flooed solo he would be just as graceful as well.

"Or, you could simply leave from here via the Manor portkey," Jarnack suggested.

His eyes widened. He wasn't exactly a fan of portkey travel but it was far more preferential to travel by floo.

"I can't believe I never thought of that."

Little Harry had folded his arms over his chest and was looking up at him sternly, tapping his foot. It actually came across as cute but Evan didn't think he'd appreciate being told so.

"You mean all those times we flooed back from Nev's we didn't have to?"

"Oh! I, er- I suppose not."

Harry heaved a great sigh and threw a look at Jarnack as if to say, 'you see what I have to put up with'. Evan turned around as he pulled out the chain holding the key from within shirt, in an effort to hide his amused grin. Turning back around he held out the key for Harry to grab onto.

"Well, we'll be off then," he told his goblin account manager as Harry took hold.

"Bye Mr Jarnack!" the younger boy waved cheerfully, sending the goblin a smile.

"_Take__ me home_," he said and with that a hook grabbed them behind the navels, and they both disappeared from Gringotts, London.

..ooOOoo..

_# My inspiration for the library was the following image:_

_http://i174(dot)photobucket(dot)com/albums/w107/Nia(underscore)River/Bookshelf(dot)jpg_

..ooOOoo..

**_Please Review_**


	18. The Portrait Gwendolyn

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Sorry to those who reviewed the last chapter but go no response from me. Have actually been a bit busy for once. May or may not get around to responding to them later. Also, was going to use an old fashioned, Shakespearean type speech for Gwendolyn in this chappie before I__ realised__ something important – I don't know how to write in that type of language. Anyways that put a stop to that idea but I think she sounds okay all the same. __Enjoy!_

**Chapter 18 – The Portrait Gwendolyn**

– _Sun, 3/4/1988_ –

"…and this itching powder stuff, and these lollies that smell _really_ nice but taste like Brussels sprouts."

"What about fireworks? Did you get any fireworks?"

It was Sunday lunch again at the Longbottom home and Harry was telling Neville all about the 'nifty' things he had bought on Wednesday. When first their hosts had greeted them in the parlour after their arrival, they had taken one look at Harry and burst into laughter. The little boy had decided to wear his new fluoro green, pink laced, knee-high boots as well as his star-shaped glasses. Whilst they had all grown somewhat accustomed to the outfits Harry chose to wear, his footwear and eyewear had at least been somewhat subdued up till then.

"So Harry," Alice had finally managed to say, "New boots and glasses, hmm?"

He had nodded proudly although he did look a little confused as to why Neville was rolling around on the ground, seeming to be having a fit.

That was half an hour ago and now all four were gathered around the dining table, the elder two present listening to their boys' lively conversation. So far Harry had told them all about his new shoes, glasses and books and was now detailing the items for 'Gambol and Japes'.

"I think I got a few fireworks. I also got fake spiders and these things called dungbombs and… I think that's it."

"Ah, dungbombs; can't go wrong with a classic like that," Neville nodded sagely and Alice raised her hand to her mouth to cover a grin, "Anyway, you should have brought all the stuff over so we could plan some uses for it all."

"I wanted to but Evan said I couldn't," Harry pouted.

"What? But why not?" Neville threw the elder Potter a questioning look.

"Because," he explained, "As much fun as I'm sure you two would have with it all, I'm very much doubt Alice would appreciate us invading her home with a full pranking arsenal."

"Too right I wouldn't," Alice agreed firmly, "You Neville get in quite enough trouble as it is without all that extra assistance."

Both boys groaned but conceded that they would not win this battle and turned back to their conversation.

"So where else did you go?"

"Oh! We went to this place called Honeydukes," Harry said, his expression becoming quite bright, "Have you ever heard of it?"

"Of course I've heard of it," Neville sniffed, "Who hasn't?"

"Well anyways," Harry said after pausing to roll his eyes, "It all tasted so yummy and me and Evan got _lots_ and _lots_ of stuff-"

"And Evan learned a _very_ important lesson about little boys and sugar," Evan interrupted with a groan.

Alice and her son looked from the elder Potter's grimacing face to the pinking cheeks of the younger.

"What's this?" Alice asked with a knowing smile.

"I can tell you've already guessed," Evan accused.

"Oh, you can't deprive me of such an amusing story. Humour me and tell it anyway."

"Yeah, tell," ordered Neville, wanting to know what it was about.

"Fine, fine, fine. So, stupid me decides to just give Harry here his bag of sweets thinking nothing of it. Of course Harry dives right in and – I would later find out – manages to eat half of it in just one sitting."

"It was really yummy," the little boy murmured defensively but no one listened.

"Anyway, the first inkling I get that something's happened is when he comes bouncing into the greenhouse where I was doing some gardening. He was practically bouncing off the walls and chattering away so fast I'm not even sure if he stopped to breathe."

"I did so!" Harry objected

Evan only grinned at him and ruffled his hair. The little boy frowned and tried to straighten it as the story continued.

"As I was saying – Harry was completely hyper and I finally figured out it was because of too much sugar. I have to admit it was pretty cute at first.

"I'm not cute," the boy in question flushed, sounding quite affronted at the implication.

"Of course you are dear," Alice said without pause.

Without thinking she distractedly pinched his cheek which proceeded to blush even more – if such a thing was even possible. Neville chucked merrily at his friend's mortification and Evan suppressed a grin.

"I'm guessing the cuteness didn't last long?" Alice said.

"Sure didn't. It soon wore off, and then it got a bit annoying, and then a lot annoying. Soon after that he seemed to settle down and I was relieved at first before he started grumbling and whining."

"Ah, the sugar hangover," Alice nodded knowingly, "Makes even the best of children act like complaining two year olds."

"Tell me about it," Evan groaned, "Fortunately he conked out after that."

"And what did we learn from this experience?" she asked in a singsong voice.

"To never ever again leave Harry alone with mass amounts of sugar?"

"Aww," Neville whined, "Just one more time. I wanna see it for myself."

"Not for all the gold in Gringotts," Evan said firmly.

That was yet another argument Neville had to concede to not winning, and the conversation quickly turned to other topics.

Sometime later, Alice and Harry were left alone drinking tea with biscuits – the boy's having retreated to Neville's bedroom as usual. Evan brought up the topic of their future employee.

"I got a letter back from Remus on Monday morning."

"Really," Alice asked, brightening, "What did it say?"

"As you expected he wouldn't accept the first offer."

"He did accept the alternate one though didn't he?"

"Yep. Said he found it, 'most satisfactory', I believe was the term he used."

"Wonderful," Alice clapped her hands together, smiling happily, "It's been ever so long since we last saw each other. It'll be nice to catch up again."

"Yeah it will," Evan agreed before realising his mistake, "For you I mean. I imagine it will be nice for you.

He winced at his terrible attempt to cover his slip and at the piercing expression Alice was now treating him to.

"Of course," she said, sounding obviously doubtful.

Her sharp gaze remained on him, pinning him to his seat where he shifted uncomfortably. Damn it but he really needed to learn to think before he spoke. Several times he opened his mouth to give an excuse only to snap it shut moments later having not uttered a word. He didn't know what else he could say without sounding more like he was trying to cover something up – which he was.

Eventually Alices gaze softened and even seemed to take on a hint of tolerant amusement. She sighed and rolled her eyes. He could have sworn he heard he murmur something about 'one day' before she suddenly started talking.

"I'll have to key Remus into the wards for when he comes over to look after Neville. You'll have to do the same in order for him to stay at your place."

He blinked – confused at the abrupt change of topic – before deciding it was in his best interests to just go with it.

"Right, key him into the wards. Er, I don't suppose you know how exactly I can do that?" he asked sheepishly as the thought occurred to him, causing her to laugh lightly.

"You've been living at Potter Manor for how long?"

"Umm," he counted the weeks off in his head, "… Six, seven, eight. Two months as of today."

"Two months then. Two months you've been living there dear, and you still don't know how to adjust the wards."

"Well," he flushed a little, "I haven't needed to yet."

"That's a fair point I suppose," she conceded, "Back to your question though; I don't know how your manor's protections work since wards are something one generally keeps to oneself. However, if you ask your head house-elf… Kell is still with you isn't he?"

"Yes."

"Well, ask Kell about the wards when you get home and he should know what to do."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

..ooOOoo..

Later that evening, whilst Harry was once again busy trying to devour every book in the library, Evan called out for Kell. The stooped house-elf appeared with a pop and looked up at him with big green eyes.

"What can Kell do for Master Evan?" he asked.

"Hello Kell. I was talking to Alice while we were at the Longbottoms' earlier today and she told me you would be the one to ask about how to adjust the wards."

"Of course Master. Kell not know how to change the wards but he can show you to she who does. This way sir."

He was confused at the 'she' comment since he was fairly certain the elves Libby, Tilly and baby Mina were the only females apart from Hedwig in the Manor. Nevertheless, he followed along behind the old elf figuring his questions would be answered soon enough.

They first headed back to the ground floor then took a staircase off the side of the entrance hall that lead into the dungeons. He looked around curiously as they walked down the hallways, having not explored the lower levels very thoroughly in the last two months. Much like the Hogwarts dungeons the tunnels down here were entirely made of stone and the paths forked off in different directions so often that one felt as though they were in a maze.

The only decorations – apart from the spaced out torches that lit up as they approached and dimmed as they passed – were the wall hangings and mounted weapons and shields.

Occasionally they would pass by wooden doors. He paused at a few to see what was inside and found some set up as potion labs and some as storage rooms, but for the most part they were empty. The rest of the time he simply followed behind Kell quietly, being led up and down several short flights of stairs and through several stone archways. They seemed to be getting deeper and deeper beneath the manor as they went.

Finally Kell came to a stop at a long passage that ended in a dead end. He looked around the wall, expecting to see one of the wall hangings or mounted weapons of some sort, perhaps even a wall torch – anything that might indicate there was a secret passage here and they hadn't simply stopped in a dead end corridor.

Finding no such clues he turned towards his house-elf, about to ask if they had come to the wrong place, when he suddenly spoke.

"This is being entrance to the ward room. Master needs to be saying 'Open in the name of Potter' and a secret way will be opening. She can then gives you all the help you needs. "

"'Open in the name of Potter'," he said immediately but nothing happened.

"Oh no sir," the old house-elf shook his head, "The secret way is only opening for a Potter. Kell must first be leaving you. You just be calling if you is needing help finding the way out Master."

And with that the elf popped away.

As he considered that he realised that Kell had said 'she' would be able to help him. Once again he was confused as to the mention of a mystery inhabitant of the Manor. Shaking his head, knowing he would have his answer quite soon, he stood facing the dead end and said the password alone this time.

"'Open in the name of Potter'."

At first it seemed as though nothing had changed but then the he heard the clinking of bricks behind him. Spinning around he watched as the archway a few metres back reconstructed itself – much like the closing of the doorway to Diagon Alley – until there was a solid wall spanning the corridor.

Realising quite suddenly that he was now trapped, he ran over to the new wall and began running his hands over it, looking for a way out. His search was of course useless and he was just beginning to panic when he once again experienced the sound of clinking bricks behind him. Turning to look at the original dead end he watched as the bricks rearranged themselves – this time like the _opening_ of the doorway to the Alley – until it formed an open archway, leading into darkness.

He waited until after the bricks had stopped moving to see if anything else would happen. After several moments of silence he concluded that the Manor was quite finished and began approaching the new archway.

As soon as he stepped through it and into the darkened room, there was a whooshing sound as hundreds of torches and lights were lit. Blinking to adjust his eyes to the sudden brightness he looked around.

He seemed to have entered the room at the top of a large amphitheatre. Stone tiers that looked as though they could double for either stairs of seats lined the round room, leading down to a pit in the centre. All around the walls of the room there were torches bolted into the walls. The rest of the light came from an enormous iron chandelier hanging from the ceiling with dozens of glowing white balls of light, reminding him of lumos spells.

Slowly, he began making his way down the tiers. Most of the pit was shielded from his view by an arch shaped wall of stone that stood alone, although why anyone would build a piece of a wall in the middle of an open floor was beyond him. That thought was soon driven from his mind however, as he reached the last step and rounded the strange wall. He gasped in surprise.

There in the centre of the pit, no longer hidden from his view, was a glowing stone, hovering a little over a metre off the floor. The stone was blood red in colour and round in shape. It was quite large – perhaps the size of a man's head – and glowed with an inner light that pulsed to an unheard beat. It was really quite beautiful to look at.

"Hello there."

"Eep!"

He spun around in shock at the unexpected voice only to find himself facing a young woman. Or rather the portrait of one, her frame being affixed to the standing wall on the side opposite the entryway.

He stared the portrait, taking in her appearance. The woman looked to be quite young – no older than her mid twenties. She had flowing honey blonde hair to her waist, held away from her face with blue ribbons. Her dress was also blue, of a velvet like material, its edges embroidered with patterns in gold thread. The outfit fit close to her upper body, flaring out from both the waist and elbows. It was finished off with leather boots, a light sword attached to one side of a wide leather belt with a wand holster on the other, as well as a gold ring on her third finger.

"Wh- who are you?" he stuttered, still surprised.

Wide brown eyes stared at him in shock before twinkling in obvious amusement.

"Never mind that," she said dismissively, her voice tinged with laughter, "First it must be said; did you just 'eep'?"

"I was surprised," he said defensively, feeling his cheeks heat up.

The lady laughed then, a light tinkling sound that echoed around the room.

"You did!" she grinned, "Well aren't you just a brave young man."

Not knowing how to respond to her teasing sarcasm, Evan settled for frowning and folding his arms over his chest, sending her a glare.

"Oh," she sobered, "Now I've gone and gotten you upset. That wasn't my intention I assure you. It's just that I've been all alone in here for so long and it just gets _so_ boring."

She woman sighed and then pouted so prettily that he found himself unable to stay mad at her.

"That's alright. I suppose I did sound rather funny," he said and her face lit up again.

"I'm so glad you forgive me. Da always did say I should learn to think before I speak," she said with a sigh and rolled her eyes, "Not that it ever did him any good. My tongue will continue to have a mind of its own."

"I know what you mean," he said with a commiserating grin, "I have the same problem myself all the time."

"You do! You poor dear; to think that of all the things my children could inherit, it would be my lack of decorum."

"I'm sorry; children, inherit?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, you see there I go again. Not even introducing myself," she shook her head before straightening up, only to bow to him in a low curtsey, "I am Lady Gwendolyn Potter," she rose from her curtsey and gave him a wink, "Call me Gwen. It's a delight to meet you."

"Potter? I'm Evan Potter. Are we related?"

"Oh, I imagine that I would be your many, many times great grandmother or some such."

"Oh," was all he could thing to say, before he added unthinkingly, "You don't look that old."

Tinkling laughter immediately rang out across the room and he flushed, realising how rude his comment had been.

"Sorry I-"

"Oh, never mind that," she waved a hand, "I can hardly fault you when – as I said – it's from me that you inherited that rogue tongue. Still, I suppose it could be worse, you could have gotten my terrible habit of finding trouble wherever I go. You would not believe the adventures I could get myself into."

"Actually I do," he said, "Find trouble wherever I go that is."

"Oh dear! You poor thing. And then added to that my Thaddeus's awful hair. Oops, there I go again, speaking before thinking," she said, cheeks pinking slightly, "Still, as much as I loved my dear husband, there's no denying that his hair was completely untamable."

Evan's hand rose to his own unruly mop, trying to flatten it down. He was forced to agree that the hair he had apparently inherited from his many times great grandfather was indeed 'completely untamable'.

"And as for my not looking that old- oh no needn't be embarrassed, I'm not at all offended. As I was saying, although my memories and personality were updated until my original self's death, I was painted shortly after Thaddeus and I married."

"I see."

"Anyway, as much fun as it is to have someone to talk to again, I'm inclined to think you came down here for a reason."

"Oh, Right! I was actually wanting to adjust the wards to let someone in – a sort of friend who will be living here."

"Aren't you a bit young to be fiddling with the wards? I'm afraid I can only allow the Head of the Family – and those he give his permission to – to adjust them."

"Actually, I am the Head of the Family," he said, holding out his right hand, displaying the Head Ring.

"Oh!" she gasped, raising a hand to his mouth, "You are the head then. But then whatever happened to young James and his beautiful Lily?"

At the mention of his parents and the knowledge that Lady Gwendolyn had known them, his eyes widened before tearing slightly. A mournful look crossed his face, and he then spoke haltingly, explaining the fate that had befallen the elder Potters.

"Oh Circe," Gwendolyn gave a noisy, unladylike sniff, "I can't believe they're gone."

"I know," Evan whispered.

"I take it little Harry has perished also?" she said sadly and he gave her a confused look.

"No. Why would you think that?"

"Well you're obviously James and Lily's boy and I know for a fact that Harry was their first son. It stands to reason that the only way you could claim the headship was if something happened to him, leaving you the heir," she said and it was now her turn to be confused as Evan shifted awkwardly, avoiding eye-contact.

"Well actually I'm the son of James's elder brother Adam."

The woman stared hard at him taking in his features and then crossed her arms across her chest.

"You most certainly are not. I'd know those eyes anywhere and those are Lily Potter's eyes."

"No they aren't," he objected, "They're _my_ mother's eyes."

"Oh, I see," she nodded as though coming to understand something, "Lily had an affair with Adam."

"She did not!" he immediately objected, offended at the very suggestion of his mother being unfaithful, "Lily Potter never had an affair with anyone!"

He continued spluttering for a time before he noticed a smug smirk on the portrait before him.

"Then you must be James and Lily's second bairn."

"I didn't say that!"

"Well, you definitely have her eyes and you said they were your mother's eyes so logically Lily must have been your mother and you defiantly have the Potter hair so you father had to have been a Potter and you said it was Adam but that would mean Lily had an affair since she was married to James unless Adam was not really your father and it can not have been any other Potter because that would still be an affair which as we have said you said she never had and thus we must assume that you father is indeed James since he was married to Lily."

She finally finished her monologue, sounding triumphant. Evan meanwhile simply stared at her, mouth agape and eyes blinking rapidly, his bewilderment plain for all to see.

"Did you breathe at all in that sentence?" he finally managed to ask weakly.

"Well of course not," she said lightly before smiling mischievously, "I'm a portrait; we don't need to breathe."

"Right; of course not," he simply sighed and rolled his eyes, "Anyway back to what you just said- Er, what exactly did you just say? For those of us who only understand normal people talk."

She pouted, "Fine! I simply deduced that you had to be James and Lily's second son."

"Well I'm not," he said, knowing even as he did that he would not be able to convince her, "I'm Evan Adam Potter, son of Adam Jacob Potter and Elise Abigail Williams."

"That sounded an awful lot like you were reciting a story," the Lady merely said and he gave a defeated sigh.

"I'm going to have to tell you the truth before you help me with these wards aren't I?" he asked and she nodded enthusiastically.

"You surely are!"

"Alright, but this is going to take a while.

And so once again this world, Evan found himself recounting his life's story. By the time he was reaching the end, the Lady Gwen had made herself comfortable sitting cross legged at the bottom of her portrait, chin resting on her elbow and her face a study in attentiveness. When he finally finished she surprised him by giving an impressed whistle then laughing at his startled expression.

"Well that sure is some life you have led."

"Tell me about it."

"And that Dumbledore!" she frowned, "From what little I had ever heard of him from your parents and grandparents he was supposed to be a great light wizard."

"I know. He has a lot of people fooled."

"And to think that we are all descended from my father's blood."

"Father's blood? I'm sorry what do you mean?"

"Of course; you were muggle raised. But surely Dumbledore- you mean he didn't tell you?" she gasped, "Evan, I was the youngest bairn of Lord Godric Gryffindor."

He stared at her in shock, his eyes wide.

"I'm descended from Godric Gryffindor?" she nodded, "Wait, and you said Dumbledore was as well?"

"The Dumbledore Family is descended from my baby brother Gilbert."

"Are there any other descendants still living."

"Well, there were five children in our family. The eldest was Gavin, then my sister Galatea, followed by Giles, then me and then little Gilbert. Gavin's descendants were the Crosse family and Giles' were the Barclays and the Reynolds. All three of those families died out some time ago."

"And the Dumbledore family was from Gilbert you said. What about Galatea?"

"Three families can be traced from her. The Tremaines and Ashleys died out several generations past and the last I heard there were only a few left of the McGonagalls."

"The McGonagalls?"

"Yes, you know them?"

"Professor Minerva McGonagall teaches transfiguration and is head of Gryffindor house at Hogwarts."

"Oh, she's still there is she?" she asked and she nodded, "James and Lily mentioned her a time or two."

"Oh."

"Still I can't believe how much that old coot kept from you," she said, reverting to the previous topic.

Evan had to struggle not to grin at that as it was quite amusing to hear someone refer to Dumbledore as an 'old coot'. Particularly as Gwendolyn had jumped to her feet and was pacing angrily across her portrait, seeming quite displeased.

"There's nothing I can do about him though," he reminded her, "So long as Voldemort is still a possible threat I can't go against him."

"Poppycock!"

"It's true, he's-"

"Oh I know his being there makes it safer for the children but I think you're overestimating his influence. You said yourself that the Dark Lord was willing and able to infiltrate the castle personally in your first year. Is that not true?"

"Well- I mean-"

"True or not, young Lord?"

"True," he admitted, "It's just that I hadn't really considered it that way. Do you think I'm wrong to expect that Dumbledore being there makes the school safer?"

"Hmm," she paused in her pacing and tapped a finger to her lip, "No not entirely. His presence does provide some modicum of protection but not as much as I believe you perceive."

"What are you thinking?" he asked, almost seeing the wheels in her head spinning.

"I'm thinking… I'm thinking that we need to find ways to cement your independence from the old coot."

"How will I do that? When I go to Hogwarts he'll be in charge since he's the headmaster."

"You are most probably unaware but there are special privileges afforded to the descendants of the Hogwarts founders."

"What kind of privileges?"

"Well for one thing, my old suite of rooms is free for you to use."

"Your suite?"

"Of course. All of the children in my family were raised with Ma and Pa at Hogwarts castle – the same as the children of the other founders. Pa had the castle build us each a set of rooms that would be ours always. He wanted us to know that no matter what happened in our lives we could always come back to Hogwarts and call it home. And, since those rooms are mine they were passed down to my heirs."

"Meaning me and Harry."

"Exactly. It's not much of course, but it's a start. This way you'll be able to decide where you wish to sleep. It's a small thing but it is about you still having control even though that man will be the Headmaster."

"I think I get it," he nodded, "You said privilege'_s_'. What else was there?"

"Oh, there are a number of rights that will be afforded to you. They are all outlined in a book called '_Hogwarts a History_'. Have you heard of it?"

"Once or twice," he said murmured, remembering wistfully just where he had heard of it.

"Wonderful. Now, we've gone completely off topic. The original intention of your visit was to adjust the wards, correct?" she asked, snapping him out of his rememberings.

"Yes. I need to let Remus in."

"Alright I'll explain the process to you. I know you noticed that stone behind you," she indicated the glowing red stone which he had forgotten about, "That is the Manor's ward stone and it sits directly at the centre of the lowest level of the property. All the wards and protections are tied into it. You can think of it as the heart of the Manor."

"Okay," he nodded, staring at the stone with a new appreciation, "And how do I use it?"

"Simply lay your hands upon the stone and say 'Allow unrestricted access to Remus-' Oh, you will need to say his full name. Do you know it?"

He remembered back to when he read his parents will – where the werewolf's full name had been written – and nodded his head.

"Remus John Lupin," he recited.

"Very well. Then you must say 'Allow unrestricted access to Remus John Lupin'."

"That's all?" he asked, expecting it to have been more complicated.

"It also helps to think of everything you know about the man – what he looks like, smells like even, the fact that he is a lycanthrope. The words will let in anyone with the correct name. Thinking of the man as you perform the adjustments allows the wards to ensure they only let in the correct person."

"Does it really matter? I mean there aren't likely to be too many Remus John Lupins are there?"

"Probably not, and the wards themselves will properly identify him correctly after the first time he ventures through them. Mostly it's just good practice," she told him with a smile.

"Alright then. Best just get this over with."

He approached the stone and hesitantly laid his hands on each side. It was warm to the touch and the stone's inner light immediately glowed a little brighter before settling down.

He took a moment to fix the image of Remus into his mind. He decided not to focus on clothing since he had spent the last years in the muggle world – it was unlikely that he wore the same worn robes he was used to seeing on the man. He also refrained from thinking of smell as he honestly had no idea what Remus smelled of. Instead he focussed on his slightly greying light brown hair – less grey than he remembered though, since he had gone back in time – and his oddly canine amber eyes, as well as the fact that the man was a werewolf. He then took a deep breath, fixing those thoughts in his mind.

"_Allow unrestricted access to Remus John Lupin_."

He watched as the stone paused in its pulsing rhythm, giving an even brighter glow and warming further in his hand. Then, after a moment it died back down and resumed its normal pace.

Removing his hands from the gem, Evan shot a questioning look at the portrait behind him. Gwendolyn gave an approving grin, nodding her head and clapping her hands together happily.

"Perfect," she told him, "It went exactly as it should."

"Brilliant," he grinned in return before a rumbling noise echoed through the chamber.

The Lady let out a tinkling laugh as Evan flushed and raised a hand to cover his stomach – the culprit behind the unexpected sound.

"Hungry?" the Lady asked with a giggle.

"Not my fault," he pouted, "It's probably nearing dinner time."

"Well then, I give you leave to depart."

"Thanks."

"I do have a request though."

"What is it?"

"Might you come down and talk to me occasionally?" she asked hopefully, "Perhaps even bring young Harry along also?"

"I can do that," he nodded, "Just one question. How do I get back out again? When the doorway opened up to this chamber it also blocked off the passageway back."

"Oh, that's quite simple. The password to return is the same as to enter."

"Oh," he said, blinking in surprise at the simpleness of it, "Well, thank you."

And with that he left the ward stone chamber behind, hoping dinner would be ready and waiting for him by the time he reached the dining room.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	19. All About Werewolves

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Sorry that this chapter is a little short but I've been following chapter outlines and it just worked out this way. Oh, well._

_Also, so no one can complain about being misled by the title, I'll say now that Remus will not be in this chapter, he'll be in the next one._

_Lastly, I topped 300 reviews. So, thanks muchly to all my reviewers out there._

**Chapter 19 – All About Werewolves**

– _Mon, 4/4/1988_ –

After lunch Evan finally sat down in the study to write another letter to Remus. He and Alice had decided the day before to arrange meet the man over lunch at the Leaky Cauldron on Sunday in place of their usual Sunday lunch at Longbottom Manor.

Parchment and inkwell arranged before him, he dipped his quill into the black ink and began to write.

_To Mr Lupin_

_I was pleased to receive notice that you found our offer acceptable._

_My associate and I would like to finally meet up with you in person. We propose a meeting over lunch at the Leaky Cauldron at eleven o'clock on the coming Sunday, the 10__th__ of April._

_If this suggestion meets with your approval we will see you then. If not, please let me know beforehand._

_Hope to see you soon_

_Evan Adam Potter._

Satisfied, with the letter, he withdrew an envelope from his desk drawer and sealed the missive within it, adding an address to the front. Then he headed to his room where he knew Hedwig would be sleeping on the perch the house-elves had set up for her. He had a letter to see delivered.

..ooOOoo..

At dinner that night he broached the topic of Remus with Harry.

"You know how Alice and I have been talking about a Remus Lupin a lot recently?"

"The man taking over for Neville's Nanny Adella?"

"That's the one?"

"What about him?"

"You see, as well as sitting and tutoring Neville, he'll be tutoring you as well," he told Harry and watched as the boy perked up, "You and Neville will be having lessons together."

"In magic stuff?" he asked excitedly and Evan had to smile.

"Yes, in magic stuff," he confirmed then added, "But also in your basics; reading, writing, maths and so on."

"I already know how to read and write."

"I know but Remus will help you get better at it."

"Oh, okay. When will we be starting?" the boy asked, bouncing eagerly in his seat.

"Soon I think. I've been writing to him for a while now and me and Alice will be meeting him for lunch on Sunday to make all the final arrangements."

"What will I do while you go meet him? Will I stay here?"

"Of course not. Leave you home alone? I shudder to think of all the trouble you would get into while I was gone," he said but the boy only grinned unrepentantly, "No; you'll be going to Neville's for lunch like usual even though Neville's mum and I won't be there. Alice said Nanny Adella agreed to look after the both of you for a few hours."

"Okay," Harry nodded.

"There's more you need to know," the little boy sat up attentively, "Remus is also going to be living here in the Manor."

"Really," Harry seemed first shocked and then a little nervous, "Is he nice? What if he doesn't like me?"

"Harry, trust me when I say he'll love you," at he sceptical look he decided to explain a little bit more about their guest-to-be, "Remus was actually good friends with our parents."

"He was?" as expected Harry looked excited at the news.

"Yep. Back when Dad was at Hogwarts he had three friends, Sirius Black-"

"Our godfather," he said solemnly, Evan having explained Sirius's fate in both worlds to him previously.

"Exactly. Then there was Peter Pettigrew-"

"The traitor."

Harry's face was almost a mirror of Evan's, one of distaste and anger. The elder simply nodded before continuing.

"The last was Remus Lupin," wanting to cheer his younger cousin up again he added, "I bet he'd be happy to tell you all sorts of stories about Dad when he was in school."

"Really? About all the pranks too?"

"Remus was part of the pranking group so I would imagine so."

Harry grinned, looking quite excited at the prospect.

"What about Mum?" he asked with quiet eagerness, "Can he tell us about Mum too?"

"Yeah, I think he probably can."

"Brill," little Harry enthused.

"There's also something else you should know."

Evan had thought long and hard about whether or not to disclose this piece of information to his younger self. On the one hand he had very strong feelings about the keeping of secrets from someone if it was likely to affect them – especially from Harry. On the other hand, this wasn't really his secret to tell.

In the end he had decided it was best to tell Harry and explain things to him – especially the importance of secrecy – rather than have him possibly find out on his own or ending up in danger through some ill-advised snooping.

"What is it?" the younger boy asked, drawing the elder from his thoughts.

"Firstly I need you to understand how important it is that you keep this a secret."

He put down his knife and fork and leant forwards to look his cousin in the eye as he spoke, satisfied to see the boy straighten up in return realising that this would be a very serious conversation.

"I promise," Harry said solemnly.

"The thing is you see, Remus is a werewolf."

He watched as his younger self's mouth dropped open and his eyes went wide as dinner plates. Had this not been such a serious conversation he might have found the expression somewhat amusing. As it stood however, it was – a serious conversation that is to say – and so he didn't. The important thing at the moment was that he make sure Harry understand what Remus being a werewolf meant whilst at the same time explaining it all in such a manner that Harry didn't turn against his tutor-to-be. Personally he thought that was unlikely to happen – older version or younger, neither were the prejudiced sort – but it was a big enough issue in the wizarding world that he would be a fool to dismiss such concerns from the get-go.

"A w-w-werewolf?" the younger boy stuttered, "W-werewolves are real?"

Evan winced a bit at the fear that leaked into that voice, suddenly very glad he had decided to tell his ward the truth. He could only imagine if Remus had been the one to tell him, how much it would hurt the man to have heard that fear directed at him by Harry of all people.

"Yes they're real. But they're not like you see in some horror movies. They're not all just mindless killers or some such," he explained, relieved to see Harry relax a bit at that pronouncement.

"Then what are they like?"

"Well, for the most part they're just normal people like you and me. They're only dangerous on nights of the full moon when they turn into their wolf form."

"What happens then?"

"Well, when they transform they do become 'mindless killers'. In their wolf form, they no longer have their human mind, only the mind of a beast and will try to hurt any human that comes near them. Also, a person will become a werewolf if they're bitten by one in wolf form. Remus was attacked and bitten when he was a young boy."

"So what will happen when Remus transforms?" the young boy asked apprehensively, "Won't that be dangerous for us?"

"Don't worry," he took Harry's hand in his and gave it a reassuring squeeze, "Recently a potion was invented called the 'Wolfsbane Potion'. It allows a werewolf to keep their human mind when they transform."

"So they're not dangerous?"

"Well, not as much as before. A bite by one will still infect you but if Remus takes the potion he won't try to bite you in the first place. Understand?"

Harry nodded in understanding, "So Remus will be taking this potion?"

"Yep. I made it part of his pay so he'll have it every month."

"Good," the little boy said relieved, "I know it's not his fault he's a werewolf but I still didn't want to be around him if he was an evil wolf."

"No and you shouldn't. Wild werewolves are dangerous and just as likely to kill you as infect you. Remus will probably even keep himself locked up on the full moon despite the potion, just to be safe."

"Okay," Harry nodded before a thought seemed to occur to him, "But why is it so important to keep this a secret?"

"Well, you know how I explained how some people in the wizarding world discriminate against people based on their blood?" he asked and received a nod in return, "Well, you'll find a lot more of them discriminate against werewolves and they're a hundred times worse about it. Most werewolves have trouble even finding jobs because if employers realise what they are they usually refuse to hire them."

"That's horrible," Harry exclaimed and he nodded.

"I know. That's why we have to keep Remus's condition a secret; so nobody has any reason to treat him badly for it."

That settled they both turned back to their dinner, conversation flowing between the two with Evan answering any other questions Harry had. Eventually he got to explaining about adjusting the wards to allow access to Remus the day before with the help of Gwen.

"So Godric Gryffa-"

"Gryffindor," Evan corrected, after swallowing the forkful of mashed potatoes he had just taken.

"Gryffindor. He helped build the school called Hogwarts?"

"Yep. He was one of the four founders and today every student is sorted into houses based on the founders' personalities."

"What are they?"

"Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. If you want to know more about Hogwarts there's a book called 'Hogwarts a History'. I've never read it myself but it's meant to be very good."

"I will," Harry nodded before getting back to his earlier topic, "So Godric Gryffindor was a famous founder and Gwen was his youngest daughter?"

"That's right."

"And she was our Great, Great, Great… lots of greats Grandmother?" Evan nodded to him, "And because of that we'll have private rooms at Hogwarts school?"

Evan nodded again and Harry's forehead wrinkled in thought. The elder boy expected a question about the rooms; perhaps whether Neville could also stay in them.

"Can we let anyone into the wards?" was the question he received instead.

"Yes, I suppose so. Why do you ask?"

"Well I was just thinking you could let Nev and Aunty Alice in. Then we could have lunch here one day instead."

At that Evan blinked in surprise before flushing a little in embarrassment. He couldn't believe that he had never considered inviting the Longbottoms over before. Alice had hosted them for lunch four Sundays in a row and he had yet to make any effort to return the favour. Well, now that Harry had mentioned the possibility, he could do something about it.

"You're right. How about we invite them over for dinner one night or something?"

"Really?" Harry asked, obviously excited at the prospect.

"Really."

"I've never had a friend over before."

At that Evan couldn't help but feel a little sad, knowing his cousin was referring to life at the Dursley's. Not wanting the mood to be brought down, he chose not to say anything and instead continued on the topic of conversation.

"I'd say tomorrow night but I already sent Hedwig out earlier with a letter for Remus and I don't want to just floo-call them in case they're busy. How about the night after that instead?" he suggested and Harry nodded eagerly, "Done. That'll give Libby time to prepare as well. I'll send Hedwig off again when she gets back."

..ooOOoo..

Later that evening found the two Potters in the library, curled up in chairs under some cosy blankets that Tilly had provided for them. The library had quickly become Harry's favourite room in the Manor and so Evan spent a lot of time there also, keeping company his young charge who was absorbing books at a rapid rate. Tonight, Evan had settled for an adventure novel whilst his younger self was determined to learn all he could about werewolves, seeing as their new house guest would be one.

"Did you know werewolves have suo- supa-" with a growl he leant his book towards his elder cousin who glanced over briefly to look at the pointed-to word.

"Superior."

"Superior. They have superior senses."

"Do they? That makes sense I suppose since normal wolves do as well," he said absently, continuing to read his novel.

This had been going on for the last hour or so; the two of them reading together and Harry peppering the silence now and then with random facts he found interesting in his reading.

"No I mean when they're human too."

Evan looked up from his book.

"Really? Eyesight too?"

"I think so. Let me just read this. It says they have en-han-ced," he sounded out the word, concentrating on the book in his lap, "Enhanced hearing, eyesight, and smell."

"I wonder if that means no werewolves would need glasses," at Harry's confused look he explaining, "If they're supposed to have such good eyesight maybe when they become a werewolf it gets fixed."

"Maybe," Harry agreed before reading more, "It says they can see long dis- distances and in the dark, that they're hearing is somewhere between human and wolf and their sen- sense of smell is so good they can i-den-ti-fy, identify a person by sc-scen-. What's this word?"

With another growl the younger boy leaned the book towards the elder, pointing out the troublesome word. Evan however was not paying any attention. Realising what the last word was, he was instead repeating Harry's words over in his head. 'Sense of smell is so good they can identify a person by scent'.

Throwing off his blanket and dumping his novel he jumped to his feet. Ignoring the squawk of surprise his cousin gave, he raced over to the table on which he had last left the Index.

"Glamour Charms and Other Methods of Disguise…" he muttered repeatedly to himself.

Once he felt the book expand, he stopped and opened it up. As he traced his finger down page after page, Harry took the opportunity to abandon his chair and book also, padding across the room to where his elder cousin stood.

"What're you looking up glamours again for?" he queried and Evan spared him a brief glance before returning his focus to the listing before him.

"I'm sure it was in here somewhere. When I was looking for a glamour charm for us to go shopping… I read about it in a book on disguise, it- aha!" he touched a finger to the entry that he had found, "'Show'."

A book across the library lit up and he abandoned the Index to go retrieve it. As he returned Harry managed to get a look at the cover before Evan spread it over the table.

"'The Master Book of Disguise'?" the little boy asked, "What are you looking for?"

"It never realised just how sensitive a werewolf's sense of smell was until you read that passage to me just before," he explained, flicking through the pages, "It says that a werewolf can identify a person by smell."

"O-kay," Harry stared at him, head tilted to the side, "I still don't understand."

"Remus is a werewolf, with a werewolf's sense of smell. And since you and I are technically the same person…" he trailed of, waiting for Harry to figure it out and was rewarded as the boy's eyes opened wide.

"He'll be able to smell us and know that we're the same!"

"Exactly."

"And this book will be able to help?"

"I think so. I looked through it when I was trying to find a way to disguise us for our trip to Diagon Alley. I remember it explaining how to disguise all sorts of things; appearance, feel, voice-"

"Smell."

"Yep, even taste. Aha! Here it is; the section on disguising scents."

Realising he was standing bent over the table, he tugged a nearby chair to the desk to sit down. Then on second thought he pulled one up for Harry also.

"Lets see. These spell make something smell like something in particular."

"Ch-o-co-_late_? Oh, chocolate! And raspberry too," Harry said, reading a few examples before suddenly wrinkling his nose, "Eww, garbage. Why would anyone want to make something smell of that?"

"Don't know. You'll find the wizarding world can be a bit strange at times," he confided, half to his cousin and half to himself before shaking his head, "Anyway, they're not the sort of spells I'm looking for. I was sure there was one about warping or something."

"Warping?"

"Yes, it- ah, here. 'The scent warping spell. This spell is best used on humans. It subtly warps – or alters – a person's scent. The resulting scent will still smell somewhat similar to the original but with enough difference that it is still uniquely different. The spell lasts for twenty-six hours'."

"So you'll still smell sort of the same as me but not a lot."

"Exactly what I was thinking. I'll still smell like a Potter, but not a Harry Potter."

"What's the spell?"

"Let's see. The wand movements are," he drew his wand from his pocket and waved it in the prescribed pattern a few times, "Like so. And the incantation is, 'Odor Mutatio'."

"Can you do it then?"

"Yep, I think I can. It seems easy enough and it says it lasts twenty-six hours which is good. I'll just have to make sure to reapply it at the same time each day to be safe."

He gave Harry a triumphant grin which was returned. Just then several loud 'dong's echoed through the room. Looking towards the library's grandfather clock which was sounding the hour, he was surprised to see how late it had become.

"Look at the time. It's past time little boy's should be in bed," he said.

"Aww, can't I stay up just a bit longer," Harry whined but Evan only shook his head.

"Nope. To bed with you. Off you go," he ordered, ushering the boy from the room.

Ten minutes later he had tucked Harry into bed and was now ensconced in his own. Glancing at the empty perch near the open window he gave himself a mental reminder to write an invitation to Alice and Neville when Hedwig returned, before drifting off to sleep.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	20. Meeting Mister Lupin

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I'm SO SORRY for the wait for this chapter. Goodness, it's been over a month now since I've updated. I don't really have an excuse for you all – I just haven't felt like writing, plain and simple. Hopefully you'll all forgive me._

_Anyways, Remus is FINALLY making his grand entrance this chapter (as if the title didn't give that away already). I've noticed a surprisingly large amount of people have commented on liking Remus and being eager to see him again so no doubt you're all very happy._

_Also, thanks to everyone who reviewed. I got more reviews for my last chapter than any other before. Some people even PM'd me, concerned that I had abandoned the story or something. I have to say that's been very encouraging; it's good to know I have such eager readers._

_Okay, I've rambled on enough now. I'll finally let you all get to the good stuff. Enjoy_

**Chapter 20 – Meeting Mister Lupin**

– _Wed, 6/4/1988_ –

The house elves had all been delighted to hear that there would be visitors to the Manor, particularly Libby and Tilly. The latter had been popping all over the house, dusting and polishing everything she could lay hands on. As for Libby, she had summarily barred them all from the kitchens. Evan had no doubt that as wonderful as her meals always were, Wednesday night's was going to be even more memorable than usual.

Tuesday morning he had once again called for Kell to lead him down to the ward room, taking Harry along with him this time. Gwen had been very happy to see him again so soon and especially delighted that he had brought Harry along with him. For his part, the younger Potter had been a little shy at first but had quickly warmed up to their portrait ancestor – Gwen really was the sort of person one couldn't help but like. In fact, Harry warmed up to her so well that once Evan had adjusted the wards to allow the Longbottoms access, his cousin had opted to stay behind to chat further. Gwen was of course very pleased.

Soon enough though, it was Wednesday evening, approaching six o'clock. Gully had been assigned the floo watch that day and was the first to know when the Longbottoms arrived. The Potter boys were playing a game of exploding snap in the Sitting Room when the elf popped in to tell them their guests had just flooed in.

Harry had immediately jumped to his feet, abandoning the game and hurrying off towards the Entrance Hall to greet his best friend and honorary Aunt, leaving Evan to trail along after him. By the time the elder boy caught up, greetings had been exchanged and the group was nearly leaving the hall, Harry had taken it upon himself to show them to the Dining Room.

"Evan," Alice greeted as he approached, enfolding him a quick hug, "Wonderful to see you. I was beginning to wonder whether you were here or not," she joked.

The two of them followed along behind Harry and Neville who were chatting away to each other.

"The moment Gully let us know you were here, Harry was off like a rocket."

"Rock-it?" she asked, confused.

"Oh, sorry muggle saying. What I mean to say is he raced ahead to greet you both."

"Ah, I see," she nodded as they followed the younger boys through a set of double doors and into the dining room, "Eager to see us, was he?"

"Just a bit," he said dryly, "Having you both over for dinner is all he's been able to talk about these last couple days. Speaking of, I'm sorry I never made the offer before. To be honest it never occurred to me until Harry asked if we could let you both into the wards when I told him about letting Remus into them."

"Don't be silly dear, it's perfectly alright," she said as all four of them took seats at the table, "I'm just glad to have been invited today. Anyways, I take it from your comment and our presence that Kell was able to help you with the wards?"

Harry, having heard the comment, looked up.

"Yeah and I gotst to meet Gwen too," he announced.

"Who's Gwen?" Neville asked.

"She's my Great, Great, Great… lots of greats Grandmother and her dad was Mr Gryffindor."

"You mean Godric Gryffindor?" Neville asked in surprise.

"Yep."

"No way," his voice was now disbelieving, "You don't expect me to believe you're like the heir of Gryffindor or something do you?"

"Actually, I had heard rumours that the Potters were related to Gryffindor somehow," Alice said and, her son's sceptical gaze now transferring to herself.

"We're not the heirs or anything," Evan said, "That would be either the McGonagalls or the Dumbledores I suppose. They're the only other related families and are descended from the eldest daughter and youngest son respectively. Gwen was Godric's youngest daughter you see."

"Really?" Neville asked, obviously still finding it hard to believe.

"Really, really."

"Wow, does this mean you own Hogwarts?" the blue-eyed boy then asked his friend who screwed his nose up in reply.

"Umm, I don't think so," Harry said as Evan snorted.

"Then what good is it?"

"Well, for one Neville, we get our own private rooms in the castle," the elder Potter told him, "There are supposed to be some other privileges outlined in 'Hogwarts a History' but I haven't checked it yet."

As he said the last he noticed the focussed look on Harry's face as though he was rememorising the title. No doubt he would find his young ward curled up in the library sometime tomorrow reading through said book.

Before anyone could say anymore on the topic the dinner bell rang and the table was suddenly laden with food. Dinner was just as delicious as Evan had expected. Libby had outdone herself, everyone had to agree. The dishes were many and varied, and all cooked to such perfection that they left one wanting more.

It was sometime later when dinner was winding down before anyone was willing to pause long enough in their eating to speak, and the topic of Sunday's lunch was brought up.

"Yes, Remus said he'd meet us there," Evan confirmed, referring to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Wonderful," Alice said happily.

"Meanwhile, I know you said Nanny Adella was happy to look after Harry for me but I thought of something we hadn't considered."

"What is that dear?" she asked and Harry too looked up in question also.

"I'm just worried she might recognise him."

"What about the glamour charm you said you used when the both of you went shopping? He could go as- what was it, Elfees?"

"Elvis," Harry piped up, "Elvis Jackson."

"Elvis then. He could go as Elvis again."

"Yeah, I already thought of that and I plan on doing the charm but the problem is his scar."

"What about his scar?" Neville spoke up then, looking at the lightning bolt in question.

"There's something about it that glamour charms don't work on it. I suppose I could give him a thick fringe but it still might be spotted. Or, Harry could wear a hat again but that would be a bit strange seeing as he'll be indoors."

"Hmm, that is a predicament," Alice said, putting down her fork and tapping a finger to her lip in thought, "How about makeup?"

"Makeup?" he asked whilst Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Yes, muggle makeup to be specific. We just apply some concealer and a little foundation over it and it should be properly hidden."

"That… that is a brilliant idea," Evan said and she smiled happily.

"But, but it's makeup!" Harry finally exclaimed, "I can't wear makeup."

"Why ever not dear?" Alice asked.

"'Cos it's for girls," Neville said matter-of-factly and Harry nodded firmly in agreement.

"Oh, don't be silly. I don't plan on giving you rosy cheeks and cherry lips or some such. I'm only going to hide your scar. No one will even be able to tell you're wearing makeup, I promise."

Harry gave her a reluctant look but finally nodded although he still seemed less than pleased with the idea. Neville on the other hand looked set to argue further until his mother gave him what he referred to as 'the look' so he let it drop.

"Perfect," Alice nodded in satisfaction, "Now Harry will just have to make sure not to smudge it and everything should be fine."

At that comment, Evan had a thought.

"What about a sticking charm?" he suggested then at the confused looks he further explained, "Apply a sticking charm to the scar so the makeup sticks to it. Then just use a _Finite_ to end the spell before he wants to remove it," Alice was staring at him in such surprise that he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "What?"

"Nothing, it's just- that's really an ingenious idea! So simple but at the same time it should work perfectly."

"Mean it?" he asked hopefully and she leaned over and patted his hand.

"Absolutely dear. Meanwhile, since it looks like everyone's finished dinner, is there somewhere you and I can go over the contracts?"

"Contracts?" he asked confused.

"For Remus's employment of course."

"Oh," he said surprised, "I suppose we would need a contract of some sort won't we?"

"We certainly will."

"Sorry I left that all to you; I just didn't know it was required."

"Well of course you didn't dear. After all, I hardly think you've had the previous experience in employing people that I have. Anyway, where can we look them over then?"

"Right, how about the library?"

"That sounds fine."

"What about you boys?" he asked the younger two, "Anything you two would like to do while Aunt Alice and I are busy?"

"You can finally show me all the stuff you got from 'Gambol and Japes'," Neville announced and Harry agreed, but with a proviso.

"Okay, but I want to show you the library first; it's really brilliant."

Neville looked less than pleased at the idea but seeing Harry's eager expression he finally capitulated.

"Fine, we'll go to the library you bookworm but I'd better see that pranking stuff after."

Harry just nodded with a grin then took one of his friend's hands and dragged him off towards the library, leaving their guardians to trail along behind at a more sedate pace. By the time Alice and Evan reached the library some minutes later, they found the doors opening and their boys already leaving the room.

"Done so soon?" Evan asked Harry who heaved a great sigh.

"He just doesn't 'preshate a good thing," he said with overdone woe and for once Neville was the one rolling his eyes.

"Yea, yea," the Longbottom boy said dragging his friend past the elder two, "Now let's go to your room."

And with that they were gone leaving behind two very amused parents.

"Well," Alice said with a small giggle, "At least we'll have some peace and quiet to go over the contracts."

And so they did. The two of them spent a good hour or so pouring over the parchments in detail with Alice explaining all the technical terms so that Evan would know just what he was agreeing to. Eventually however they finished up and it was time for the Longbottoms to go home so the two made their way up to Harry's bedroom.

Both were hit with an almost instant headache as they entered, which was not surprising since the boys had somehow managed to unleash one of the prank items upon the bedroom's interior. The walls and furniture were all transformed into such bright colours and crazy patterns that it could only be described as psychedelic.

Harry was of course sad that his friend had to go home. However it must be said that he was a great deal sadder to find his room had already reverted back to its original state by the time he returned from seeing their guests off.

..ooOOoo..

– _Sun, 10/4/1988_ –

He arrived at the Leaky Cauldron in a whirl of floo and then proceeded to fall painfully and embarrassingly on his rear. A few of the customers threw his soot covered form amused glances or even chuckled aloud. Before he could think to do anything about his situation a hand reached down and grasped his shoulder, heaving him to his feet.

"All right there lad?" a familiar voice said, "Here now. Just a quick _Scourgify_. And there you are, good as new."

Following the wand pointed at him up the attached hand then arm, he found himself face to face with Tom the barkeep.

"Thanks for that," he said sincerely.

"Not a problem Mr… ah, Mr Potter it would be," at Evan's surprised look he explained, "Never forget a face I do. You were in here back in early February if I'm not mistaken."

"Yeah, I was," he confirmed.

"Strangest thing but you're near the spitting image of a young James Potter – may he rest in peace," he muttered then gave him a speculative look, "Any relation?"

"Very distant," he managed to say convincingly, given the fact that it was somewhat true - he and the James Potter in question _were_ dimensions apart after all.

"Well," Tom asked, making his way back behind his bar, "What can I do for you lad? Or are you just passing through?"

"Actually, I'm supposed to be meeting a couple people here shortly. I don't suppose you can tell me whether Alice Longbottom has arrived yet?"

"Little Alice? Oh she arrived not too long ago and booked a private meeting room in back."

"Could you perhaps let her know I'm here?"

"Not a problem young sir," the man said then wandered off down a corridor.

Whilst Tom went to inform Alice of his arrival, Evan turned around and leaned casually against the counter, absentmindedly watching the people coming and going. He glanced past the door to muggle London and had to do a double-take as he recognised a familiar figure.

"Remus!" he called without thought before wincing at the familiarity of his address and correcting himself by calling, "Remus Lupin!"

The amber eyed man by the door looked up curiously at hearing his name called and Evan could see his eyes widen at they settled on him, no doubt shocked by his resemblance to his father – or rather 'uncle' – James Potter.

As the wizard approached Evan was surprised to find himself feeling rather nervous. Not because he was afraid that the man would discover his identity – he had been applying the scent warping charm regularly at eight o'clock every night since he had discovered it. Rather, his nerves stemmed more from the fact that this man was a link to his parents and had at one time in the other world been an important mentor figure to him. He was nervous about whether he would be able to re-establish that relationship with this dimension's version of the werewolf.

He had gotten to know Remus back in his third year when the man had been his DADA professor. During the evenings they had spent going over the Patronus Charm they had also talked a lot, Remus sharing many stories of his school days with Evan's father. He was a little sad to realise that upon meeting Sirius – his breath hitched at that but he quickly brought himself back under control – upon meeting Sirius he had let his relationship with Remus fade into the background.

He wondered briefly how his home-world's version of the man was doing and how he was coping with the loss of Sirius. For the first time in a long while, he wished that he could return back to his world so that he could be there for him.

"Evan Potter?"

The questioning voice pulled him from his musings. He nodded and Remus extended a hand which he immediately shook in his own.

"Hi, it's good to finally meet you," the werewolf said.

"You too," he said with a smile.

"Is your friend here already also?"

"Oh. Yes, Ali-"

"Mr Potter," a voice interrupted and they both turned to look at Tom, "Ah, and Mr Lupin. It's been a long time since I've seen you in here lad.

"Yes Tom, it has been."

"Well as I was saying, the lady said to send you on back as well as Mr Lupin when he arrives. And since you're both here why don't you head on down. She's in meeting room number three."

With twin nods and thankyous to Tom, the two of them headed down the back hallway, Remus throwing Evan glances as they went. Upon reaching the door first, Evan held it open for his companion to enter. Remus nodded in thanks then took two steps into the room before stopping in his tracks.

"Alice?" he exclaimed.

Alice looked up from the parchment she was looking over at hearing her name called, her eyes lighting with welcome and tinged with a little confusion. Standing up she came around the table to engulf Remus in a firm hug before pulling back with her hands on his shoulders to give him a look over.

"Remus, so good to see you again. I'm glad to see you seem to have been taking reasonable care of yourself."

"I try," he said, still looking shocked.

"What is it? You almost look surprised to see me," she said jokingly.

"Well that's because I am," he said simply, regaining some of his usual poise, "Mr Potter never mentioned just who his 'associate' was."

Two pairs of eyes turned to look at the boy in question who flushed and shifted a little awkwardly under their gaze.

"I'm so sorry," he blurted out, "I didn't even realise I'd done that."

"Well no harm done," Remus assured him in that friendly manner that always put one at ease, "I take it that my other student is your little Neville then?"

"It is indeed. Although he's not quite so little as he was last you say him. Now, what are we all standing around for? Why don't we all take a seat?" Alice suggested, finally stepping away from Remus.

As they all did just that, Evan took the opportunity to take in his surroundings. It was a dreary looking room; dark and gloomy. It housed a long table surrounded by several chairs, all made of wood and all stained and marked with age and use. All of that in addition to the dim lighting provided by the few candles scattered about lent the room the same old, worn atmosphere that the rest of the establishment embodied.

Once the three of them had all seated themselves – clustered up near one end of the table where all the parchments were laid out – Evan looked to Alice, who sat at the head of the table, who had started speaking.

"Well, I don't believe introductions are needed since everyone seems to know each other."

"Yes, although I was surprised Mr Potter recognised me out in the pub. You must have described me to him very well."

"Actually, I haven't described you at all," Alice said in an overly casual tone although Evan was too concerned with covering his mistake to notice.

"Actually I recognised you from an old photo of you in the Prophet," he quickly supplied, surprised and pleased with how smoothly the half-truth came out, "And please, call me Evan."

"Of course Evan – and you can call me Remus," the man said in that kind manner of his.

"Okay Remus," he smiled shyly, pleased at being granted the familiarity.

Alice quietly took in the reaction with a smile – glad to see the two would get along – then decided to speak up before the silence got uncomfortable.

"So Remus, you _must_ tell me what you've been doing these past years."

"Well, not much really. Living, working, the usual."

They all sent some time chatting, Remus and Alice catching up on what one another had been up to and Remus taking the opportunity to get to know Evan better.

"To be honest from your letters I didn't expect you to be so young," the werewolf admitted.

There was a strange expression – a half frown of a sort – on Remus's face which the Potter boy couldn't decipher. Alice however seemed to understand perfectly and made to reassure him.

"Don't you worry about that dear. I know I was a bit concerned myself at first but Evan's proven to be quite good with young Harry."

Evan snorted at that, drawing both the others' attention.

"I don't know about that," he said, "I've made more mistakes so far than I care to count. Truthfully, I'd be lost without you and Libby."

"Everyone makes mistakes," Alice said diplomatically.

"The sugar incident," he stated simply and her lip twitched as though itching to break out into a grin.

Remus's confusion and curiosity at the comment was plain to see and thus started a whole new thread of conversation about the horror that was Harry on a sugar high. The werewolf was quite amused but after a several minutes laughter they all calmed down and he posed a question.

"Speaking of Harry," he asked, in a way that made Evan think that perhaps he had been wanting to ask for some time, "How is he?"

"He's been good; especially now that he's away from the Dursleys."

At Evan's comment Remus's expression darkened.

"Tell me they weren't as bad as I'd feared?" he almost begged and the boy looked away trying to decide what to answer.

"It was… bad. But it could have been worse."

He saw Alice also listening intently which was not surprising since this was the most open he had ever been about Harry's life before arriving at Potter Manor. Remus on the other hand looked as though he wanted to know more.

"What do you mean by that? How bad was it?"

"I-," he sighed, "I really don't think it's my place to say," seeing that Remus was less than pleased with that answer he hurried to explain, "I know you were close to Harry's parents and you only want to know because you care, but you have to understand that it's not my place to say. Harry and I had very similar childhoods and I know that if situations were reversed and he went off telling people about what happened to me I would probably have trouble forgiving him."

Remus stared at him for a time, his gaze painfully neutral and Evan stared back looking determined. Finally Remus broke eye contact and nodded an understanding look on his face.

"Fair enough," he said, that simple sentence conveying that he understood the reasons even if he wished they weren't so.

"We understand dear," Alice said then, "Harry adores you and the last thing he needs is to start doubting your devotion to him."

"Thanks," was all he could think to say, grateful neither was going to continue to pursue the topic.

"Anyway enough chit-chat now, what say we get down to business, hmm?"

With all in agreement, the contracts laid out before them were pulled forward so that Remus could begin reading them over. The werewolf seemed to understand them far better than Evan had and only asked the occasion question, most of which were answered by Alice. He did have one in particular for the Potter heir however.

"And you've arranged a Wolfsbane supplier then?" he asked and the boy nodded.

"I wrote to Jarnack – my account goblin – the other day and he assures me that he'll have a dose ready for the coming full moon."

"Well in that case, this all looks more than satisfactory to me."

"Well then. Everything else is already done since Evan and I filled out everything we needed to several days ago," Alice said happily and handed him a quill, "All that remains is for you to sign away."

The next few minutes were silent but for the scratch of quill on parchment as Remus filled in the appropriate places. Finally, he finished his last signature with a flourish before putting down the quill and leaning back in his chair with a satisfied sigh.

Alice clapped her hands happily then began neatening the contracts up once again into two piles – one was Remus's contract with her and the other his contract with Evan. Withdrawing her wand from her sleeve she pointed the first at one pile and then the other.

"_Replico_, _Replico_, _Replico_. _Replico_, _Replico_, _Replico_."

There were now four copies of each contract. The two wizards watched as she gave a copy of each to Remus, gave a copy of the one applicable to Evan to him and kept a copy of the one applicable to herself.

"What are the others for?" he asked curiously.

"A copy goes to the Ministry for their records and the originals go to Gringotts for safekeeping," Remus explained in what Evan recalled as his 'professor voice', leading the boy to believe this was common practice with such contracts.

"Exactly," Alice agreed, "I'll take the originals over to the bank directly after I leave here and then owl off the copies to the Ministry when I get home."

Evan nodded in understanding and then gave a grin, happy that everything was finalised and Remus would soon be becoming a permanent fixture in his and Harry's live.

"Speaking of," he muttered and at the curious looks thrown his way continued, "I was just wondering when you'll want to move in?"

Remus tilted his head to the side in consideration and Alice looked up to hear the answer also.

"Well, I've already resigned from the job I was working at; I had my last day on Friday. As for my belongings, I don't have much to pack and we _are_ wizards after all – it'll take me no more than a couple of hours to do everything. So really, I can move in whenever it's most convenient for you," the man said then added, "So long at it's within a fortnight, because that's when my rent runs out."

"Why don't you move in tonight then," he suggested impulsively and watched his two elders blink in surprise and share an incredulous glance.

"Tonight?" Alice repeated.

"Isn't that a bit soon," Remus asked

"Don't see why it would be," he said with a shrug, "Like you said, you've already quit you're job, it's not to late in the day and it'll only take you a couple hours to pack. The house-elves have had a room prepared for you since shortly after I told them you were coming and there's always plenty of food in the Manor larder so it's not like Libby will be put out and have to do any last minute shopping for foodstuffs."

Remus took in the explanation then glance at Alice who gave a 'why not' type of shrug. Well – the werewolf supposed to himself – the sooner he moved in the sooner he would see Harry again. With that though he broke out into a grin, decision decided.

"That sounds wonderful then. I should be able to arrive at around three o'clock if that's alright with you. Do I just floo in?"

Evan grinned in return, "Yep, just floo on over. The address is 'Potter Manor'."

..ooOOoo..

Some hours later found Remus Lupin flitting anxiously about his increasingly bare looking apartment. Every few steps he would stop and wave his wand at some knickknack or other which had previously escaped his notice, watching satisfaction as it flew across the room and into the trunk laid open on his kitchen table.

After repeating this procedure for several minutes and finding nothing else to magic in the vicinity, he quickly yet efficiently made another, last tour of all the rooms in the apartment to ensure he had not missed anything. Returning to the kitchen area – having found nothing in his search – he looked into his trunk and nodded in satisfaction.

It was a rather ratty looking piece of luggage. The wood was chipped and even scratched in places and the metal fastenings were spotted with rust. The inner lining – once a cheery yellow – was now dull and stained black in various places where inkpots had leaked.

Of course, this well-worn condition was not entirely surprising given the fact that the trunk had seen some seven years use as Remus's own school trunk – and everyone knows the kind of rough treatment a schoolboy's possessions inevitably face. Added to that, he had been making good use of it for the nearly twelve since finishing school, not to mention the fact that it had been bought second-hand to start with. One could even say that the trunk in question was actually in quite good condition, all things considered.

Still, it was not the condition of the trunk nor the fact that it was just that – a trunk rather than a suitcase – which made it so out of place in this obviously muggle home. Rather it was the case's contents. They were all miniaturised.

Shrunken shoes and shirts and pants. Shrunken bedding and books and bric-a-brac of all sorts. In one corner could even be found miniaturised versions of all his old school things; textbooks, quills, robes and a red and gold scarf. Packed neatly in this trunk were all of Remus's worldly possessions, spelled into diminutive versions of their usual selves.

"That's it then," the man in question murmured to himself, then pocketed his wand and closed the lid, latching up the fastenings.

He had quit his job, given notice to his landlord and emptied almost the entire apartment, leaving nothing of his own behind. Now all there was to do was to apparate to the Leaky Cauldron and floo to Potter Manor. Simple… So why then, was he not moving?

Heaving a great sigh, he turned around and leant back on the kitchen table, crossing his arms over his chest and considering the situation – in particular, the overwhelming tangle that were his emotions at the moment. Nervousness, happiness, eagerness, even some fear.

The happiness and eagerness were easy enough to understand. He was finally going to be able to see his cub again and he couldn't wait. An excited grin unconsciously settled over his features before fading as he considered the other two emotions. Nervousness and fear.

Nervousness- that was understandable wasn't it? This was to be the first time he would see Harry since before Lily and James had died. What would their boy be like? Would Harry like him? What about if he knew about his 'affliction'? Yes, nervousness was perfectly understandable. But fear?

Well, he knew the thought of Harry's reaction if he found out about his lycanthropy was a fearful thought but that wasn't what was bothering him at the moment. Looking deeper into his thoughts, he realised what had been worrying him the most. He had left him; abandoned Harry to those horrible muggles. Oh sure, he had tried his best to get the boy away from there and all things considered he probably would have succeeded, had it not been for Dumbledore. A growl reverberated in the back of his throat at the thought of that man before he calmed himself again.

Running a hand through his greying hair he tilted his head back in thought. He now knew what he was so scared of. He was afraid that Harry would reject him – would hate him for leaving him with the Dursleys. He sighed once again. Well, there was only one thing for it. He would apologise to Harry; apologise to his cub for not getting him out of there. And he would do his best to explain that he _had_ tried – or at least as much as he could explain given those damnable secrecy spells – and hope for the best.

Nodding firmly at his decision, he straightened up again. Well, what was he waiting for? He had somewhere to be. Turning around he grabbed the handle of his trunk and lifted it off the table, setting it at his feet. Then, with a final look around his apartment – as though to say farewell – he disapparated away with a soft pop.

Appearing at the Diagon Alley apparition point, the wizard immediately cast a levitation charm at his trunk and set off toward the Leaky Cauldron, pulling the floating luggage behind him.

Passing through the entryway into the courtyard and then into the pub itself, he made a beeline for the fireplace. Taking a pinch of the public use floo powder from the bowl beside the hearth, he threw it into the flames, not wanting to give himself time for hesitation lest he find himself too nervous to get on with it. The fire immediately burned green so he stepped in with his trunk and announced his destination –

"Potter Manor."

- before disappearing in a whirl of emerald flames.

Arriving at his destination he stepped gracefully from the fireplace with a practiced ease that had apparently not deserted him in his six years self-exile from wizarding life. Steadying his old trunk beside him he raised his head to look around, a soft smile of remembrance settling upon his lips. It was exactly as he remembered it.

"Mister Loopy is returned to Potter Manor," said a high, croaky voice.

Glancing down to his left in surprise, he took in the wrinkled, stooped figure of the Potter's head house-elf.

"Kell," he greeted politely, "Still around I see."

"Yes, yes. Kell still has some years left in him," the elf nodded, "If Mister Loopy is waiting here, then Kell is being informing the Masters that you is arrived."

Remus nodded in understanding and the old elf disappeared with a pop. He shook his head with an amused smile. 'Mister Loopy'. Merlin but had been years since he had been called that. It had been Christmas of his fifth year and James had invited all the Marauders to his home for the holidays. Upon being introduced to old Kell, the old elf had dubbed him 'Mister Loopy' and the rest of the house-elf staff had followed suit. The others – Sirius in particular – had found the moniker terribly amusing.

At the sound of footsteps approaching he was jolted out of his reminiscing. He stared nervously in the direction of the noise. There was a momentary pause in the footsteps before the doors his gaze was fixed so intently upon swung open, the hinges making a barely audible creak.

Evan Potter stepped into the room first and gave him a welcoming smile. He absently smiled back but the majority of his attention fastened on the teen's hand, in which was clasped another, smaller one. Evan took another step further into the room and Remus watched as another, smaller brunette peeked out from behind his legs. At the sight of the younger boy his breath, which he had been unconsciously holding, escaped him in a rush.

He stepped slowly towards them as they did the same, his eyes fixed on Harry. He was so different than he remembered. So much bigger. He had grown so much. That hair which had, even at one year of age, shown a complete disregard for gravity had grown even messier over the years. It was so much like James's, especially that part at the back that stood right up. Next Remus took in his face. It was currently set in a show of shy nervousness and although such an expression had been rare to find on the confident James's Potter, Remus could tell that Harry's features were still very much his father's. Except for the eyes. Those wonderful, bright green eyes. Those were all Lily.

"Harry," he breathed in some awe and a huge grin spread over his face.

The boy, hearing the happiness in the stranger's voice, and seeing the happy smile on his face, stepped out from behind his cousin, instead leaning against the older boy's side.

Remus watched him come further into view, looking up at him with a hesitant expression and a faint smile in return before glancing up at the boy at his side.

Evan, sensing his young charge's nervousness, squeezed the hand in his reassuringly before deciding to break the silence.

"Remus, good to see you again," he greeted and watched as the man finally tore his gaze from Harry in order to greet him back.

"Evan. The same to you."

The man's gaze darted back to the still silent Harry and Evan decided to take pity on them both and introduce them.

"Harry," he said and the boy's head swivelled up and around to look at him, "This is Remus Lupin, who I told you about. Remus, this is Harry Potter."

"Harry," Remus said softly and squatted down, extending a hand down towards the boy, "It's wonderful to see you again."

Harry gave a quick, questioning look to his elder self who nodded encouragingly before turning back to the Manor's newest occupant. Left hand still firmly in Evan's, he stepped forward and put his right one in Remus's, who shook it firmly but gently.

"Hello," he whispered the cocked his head to the side considering, "I don't remember ever meeting you before."

The man smiled, releasing his hand, "I'm not surprised. You were just a bit over one year old the last time I saw you."

Remus watched as Harry bit his lip hesitantly, as though considering something. A determined expression finally settled over his little face and he looked up again.

"Evan says you used to know my parents."

"Yes, yes I did. We were very good friends."

"Could- could you maybe tell some me stuff about them? Please?" he asked, looking hopeful.

The werewolf quickly glanced at Evan who he was surprised to see looked as hopeful as Harry before he answered.

"Sure. I think I'd like that too."

Harry's expression brightened and he beamed at him. Remus couldn't help but smile back. Somehow, he knew, everything was going to be okay.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	21. Wolf Moon

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Quite a few people have commented in their review that nothing seems to be happening in this story. In response I'd just like to say that firstly, I can definitely understand how you would get that impression as not much seems to have happened yet for all that this fic is already twenty-one chapters long. Secondly, I can assure you all that I have definite plans for where this story is going and what is to happen. Unfortunately it's going to continue being slow to get there. That's just my writing style I'm afraid - slow (very slow) paced. I should probably put a warning to that effect in the first chapter of something. Anyways, I hope that little flaw of mine won't turn you all off the story._

_Now for the next order of business, for part of the chapter I've written it from Harry's point of view. Little Harry, that is to say. Most of the story so far has been Evan's point of view with a few parts from Remus's so this is something new for me. I think it turned out okay, although maybe he comes across a bit younger than he should be. Let me know what you think._

_Also, as you may have noticed, this is yet another shortish chapter. Once again, that's just the way it works out best. Hope you all enjoy reading it all the same_

**Chapter 21 – Wolf Moon**

– _Mon, 1/5/1988_ –

Three weeks passed and Remus settled comfortably into Potter Manor. Soon after his arrival, Neville began flooing in each morning to spend the day in Mr. Lupin's care, joining Harry in lessons. Both boys were of course quite happy to get to spend so much time together.

Time had seemed to have flown by and sooner than expected the full moon was upon them. Remus had discovered soon into his stay that Harry was aware of his condition. At first he had not known what to feel – nervous about Harry's reaction, angry that Evan had given away such a personal secret, grateful that he wouldn't have to tell the boy himself. Fortunately, his cub seemed not to hold at all with any of the common anti-werewolf prejudices – although he had for some reason wanted to know whether Remus needed glasses and what he and Neville smelt like.

Speaking of Neville, Alice had also taken it upon herself to inform her son of his situation but thankfully Neville was just as unbothered by his lycanthropy as Harry was. In the end the werewolf had decided it would be easier to let simply let go any ire against his two employers and settled on being grateful to them instead. They had obviously explained his illness in a very favourably light since their children were able to accept it – and him – so easily.

Today however was to be the night of the first full moon since his arrival and Remus could currently be found deep in the labyrinth-like dungeons beneath Potter Manor, locked in a medium sized, stone-walled room.

When Evan had at first indicated that he should spend the night of his transformation at the Manor he had been emphatically against the idea. There was no way he was willing to risk them both that way. Harry was his cub and he would die before harming him and as for Evan- well he found himself becoming increasingly fond and protective of the elder Potter boy also.

Evan had tried to point out that he would have taken the Wolfsbane potion and so the wolf within him would thusly be unable to take over. Remus had countered by saying that humans were fallible and there was always the possibility that his potion could be faulty.

Next the teen had said that he really had nowhere else to go. He had informed the boy that there was a large uninhabited forest that he had, for several years now, made a habit of frequenting for nights such as this. Then, Evan had made the first point that led to his reconsideration; there was always the chance of some muggle wandering into the forest – perhaps to hike or camp in the woods. The elder wizard had tried to argue that there had never been anyone there before, even as the very thought had turned his blood cold. Nevertheless, Evan continued on mercilessly.

The boy told him that he had already spoken to Kell who had informed him that there was a chamber deep, deep in the dungeons, far away from the upper levels, that would be most suitable for his use. It was a reasonable sized room with walls several feet thick and – best of all – it only opened and closed to a voice operated password, meaning there was no way for him to possibly break out whilst in wolf form.

So it was that in the end he had capitulated and agreed to endure the full moon in the 'Earwig Chamber' (as Harry had dubbed it, after hearing that 'earwig' was the room's rather incongruent password).

The chamber itself had been simple enough upon his initial inspection, although it seemed the house-elves had since decided it needed some decorating for the occasion. There were now several cushions and blankets scattered around – looking very comfortable indeed – and in one corner of the room there was a large bowl of water with a large, meaty, leg of lamb sitting beside it on a platter. He wrinkled his nose a bit at the raw meat but knew that as a wolf he would no doubt find it highly appetising.

All in all, he thought to himself, this would probably be the most comfortable transformation he had ever faced. Or at the very least, the most comfortable since back in the days when he had his animagus friends to keep him company.

Before his thoughts could drift any further he felt something 'shift' inside him and instinctively knew that the sun had set and the moon was full. And then, he began to change.

..ooOOoo..

Several levels above the 'Earwig Chamber' in his own bedroom, Harry Potter sat curled up in the centre of his bed with his blankets tucked up high under his chin, clinging tightly to a soft plush toy. Through wide eyes he watched as the light beyond his window darkened. Any time now, he knew, Mr Lupin – or rather Moony, as the man had said he could call him – would be changing into a werewolf.

It was all rather scary really. Sure, Evan had explained it all to him – Harry knew about the Wolfsbane potion and how it would make Moony safer – but still, it was a _werewolf_. A few months ago the boy had never even known such a thing existed and now, here he was, and there was one changing possibly at this very moment in the same house as him.

Harry had done his very best to appear brave of course. He was fairly certain neither Evan nor Moony knew he was afraid. Especially Moony. The Potter heir had seen how scared the man had been when he found out Harry knew what he was. The boy had also seen how relieved he had been when Harry told him he didn't mind.

So of course the very last thing he wanted was for the older wizard to now think his student was afraid of _him_ rather than the wolf. He didn't want Moony to think he didn't like him, because he did, he really, really did. Not as much as Evan though, because Evan was his 'favouritest' person and had saved him from the mean Dursleys and he said he loved him.

But then, he stopped to consider. Moony _had_ tried to save him too but the bad Dumbledore man had stopped him. They had even figured out that the bad man had cast those horrible secrecy charms on Moony too. Harry thought about those facts for a few moments turning them over in his mind before abruptly shaking his head. No, even if his tutor did try to save him he still liked Evan the best. Not to say that he didn't still like Moony too. He liked Moony like he liked Aunty Alice. Maybe, Harry considered, maybe he should try calling him Uncle Moony. That would be nice, he thought.

Just then there was a scratching noise and the boy jumped in fear. He pressed himself up against the headboard of his bed and curled his legs up tightly to his chest, looking towards the window. After some moments the scratching noise was repeated and Harry let out a relieved sigh. It was just the wind, blowing the branches of the tree against his window. Still, it was getting darker out there and soon Moony would be changing. Maybe, just maybe Evan would-

"Yes," he nodded, "I'll go see."

Decided, he crawled to the side of his bed and jumped out heading for his door before stopping and doubling back to fetch Mr Wormy. Aunty Alice had said all kids need at least one plush cuddle toy, no matter how old they were. She had even gone out and bought one for him and Evan both. Harry's was a bookworm – Nev had picked it out for him saying it suited him the best – and he had called it Mr Wormy. Aunty Alice had chosen the one for Evan – a white owl and his older cousin had allowed him to name that one too. Harry had picked Miss Wiggie – after Hedwig, since they both looked so much alike.

Mr Wormy now safely tucked under his arm, the little boy headed back towards his door. Opening it, he stepped out into the hallway and tiptoed down the corridor to the next door down. Careful to be quiet, he opened the door and peeked inside.

..ooOOoo..

It was the first full moon since Remus had arrived at Potter Manor and Evan was tucked away in his private quarters. He knew that Remus was at this moment several stories below him locked away in a dungeon room. He hoped the man would be comfortable there. When he had first seen the stark room with its hard stone floors he had had a quiet word with the house-elves and asked them to make it a bit more comfortable for him. Hopefully the efforts would be appreciated.

Harry, he knew, was just next door, already bathed and dressed in his pyjamas and ensconced in his four-poster bed. He had tucked the boy in himself not too long ago. It was of course quite a bit earlier than his usual bedtime what with it barely being sundown, but Evan had thought it would be for the best.

Both of them had chosen to have dinner early with Remus before saying goodbye to the man as he headed off downstairs. To all appearances Harry seemed to have been dealing with the whole situation fairly well. Still, just in case he _was_ worrying Evan had decided to send him off to bed early, figuring it would be more than a bit difficult for him to worry whilst asleep. After tucking Harry in, he had decided to have a nice bath himself before curling up warmly in his favourite chair and pulling out the novel he had most recently been reading.

Finishing the page he was on he turned over to the next one, his gaze moving back to the top. At that moment there was a faint creaking noise off to the side but he thought nothing of it. Or rather he thought nothing of it until Hedwig, who had been snoozing at her perch, gave a hoot. Glancing up, he looked over to the owl who seemed to toss her feathered head in the direction of his door. Turning his eyes in that direction he was surprised to see the door open ajar with Harry peeking in. Satisfied that her master was aware of his guest and evidently deciding her nap was over, Hedwig gave a farewell hoot and winged off out the window.

"Harry?" he asked after the owl was gone, "What's wrong little cousin?"

"Can- can I come in?"

Evan frowned at the slight tremor in his charge's voice and set his book aside.

"Sure, come on in."

He watched as Harry entered the room and shut the door behind him before padding across the intervening space between them to stand a few metres in front of him.

Evan took in the boy before him. He wore sky blue pyjamas with animated clouds drifting gently across them and a golden snitch appearing occasionally as it zipped rapidly between the clouds. His hair was particularly messy, flattened down and sticking up at the side where he had most likely been laying. Added to that he had his Mr Wormy tucked up under one arm and Evan couldn't help the little smile that crossed his face. Harry would be most put out with him if he ever dared say it aloud but he was really quite adorable.

His smile faded somewhat though as the read the anxiousness in the wide green eyes looking into his own. Frowning a little, he sat back to give Harry room and held out his arms to him.

"C'mere," he said and Harry jumped into his arm, curling up in his lap, "Now, how about you tell me what's bothering you."

"Nothing," the boy said, avoiding his seeking gaze.

"Harry," he said firmly, taking his chin between his fingers and tilting his head upwards so he could look him in the eye, "Now I'll ask again. Tell me what's bothering you."

The boy hesitated for a moment and Evan noticed his eyes glancing towards the window before he sighed.

"It's just," Harry fiddled with the hem of his nightshirt, "It's nearly nighttime is all."

Frowning in confusion he allowed Harry to pull his chin away and duck his head down as he snuggled deeper into his embrace. Trying to figure out what his charge was worrying about he glanced around, pausing at the window Harry had been looking at. His eyes widened in understanding as he saw the darkening sky and the fat, round moon that hung there among the stars.

"Oh," he murmured, "Harry, are you scared about it being the full moon."

Harry immediately looked up with an indignant expression on his face.

"I'm not scared!" at Evan's unwavering gaze he hesitated before adding, "I'm just a bit- a bit 'worried'. But not 'scared'." He added hurriedly.

The teen held in a smile at the boy's words and their defensive tone. Instead he merely nodded understandingly and Harry – obviously satisfied that his guardian understood the situation properly – ducked his head back down again.

"It's just- It's not Moony I'm scare- I mean 'worried' about, cos I really like Moony. It's just that, well I never even knew there were real werewolves before and now-"

"And now there's one in the house," Evan finished understandingly but looking slightly concerned, "Should I not have offered Remus the Earwig Chamber? Would you like it better if he went to a forest next month?"

Harry contemplated the idea before shaking his head.

"No that's okay. He can stay, just-" Harry paused and looked up at him timidly, "Just maybe I can stay here with you those nights?"

Taking in the shy expression on the boy's face Evan couldn't help himself. He reached up a hand and ruffled his hair, ignoring Harry's indignant "Hey!" and chuckling softly.

"Of course you can stay," he bent down to lay a kiss over the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead, "You can stay anytime you want."

"Really?"

"Really," he gave him a hug before abruptly depositing Harry on his feet and standing up, "Now, what say we both get tucked into bed and I read you to sleep?"

"Okay."

Harry raced across the room jumped into bed, waiting for Evan to slide in also before setting Mr Wormy on his side then looking at Harry with a frown.

"What?"

"Where's Miss Wiggie?"

Evan quirked an eyebrow and nodded to the bedside table on Harry's side. Seeing the stuffed owl the boy reached over to retrieve it before leaning towards Evan to tuck the toy in on the other side of the bed.

"Better?" Evan asked with a small smile which widened as Harry nodded seriously, "Good then I'll just call- Tilly!"

'_Pop_'

"Yes, Master Evan?"

"Tilly, could you get a book for me from the library?"

"Of course Master. What book is Master Evan wanting?"

"Something to read Harry to sleep with. Do you know anything good?"

"Hmm," Tilly's big blue eyes squinted as her face took on a thoughtful look before her expression quickly cleared, "Oh! Tilly knows just the one Master. Tilly will fetch it."

'_Pop_'… '_Pop_'.

Tilly reappeared with a book in her hands which she held out towards Evan. Accepting the book he turned it over to read the title, Harry leaning into him in order to read it also. It was a large, heavy book bound in some sort of pale blue leather with gilt gold lettering. On the front cover was written '_Fairy Tales and Legends_'.

"Tilly is knowing the Masters is muggle raised so she is thinking they is never reading of the wizarding fairy tales like most wizarding children," Tilly explained rapidly in an anxious squeaky voice, "Tilly is hoping you is liking."

"It's brilliant," Harry assured the nervous looking elf.

"The perfect choice," Evan added, causing her to break out into proud expression.

"Oh, thankee Masters. Tilly will be leaving youse now."

And with that she disappeared in a '_Pop_'.

With the house-elf gone both boys burrowed down further under their covers. Seeing that Harry was settled Evan cracked open the book and began to read.

..ooOOoo..

– _Tue, 2/5/1988_ –

The next morning both boys woke up refreshed and well rested. Harry had given Evan a good morning hug and a murmured "Thank you" before heading to his own room to get changed.

Not long after, both boys found themselves in the dining room, eating breakfast and wondering worriedly where their third companion was. Minutes continued to tick by and Evan was just considering calling on a house-elf to fetch the wayward Marauder when there was the faint sound of approaching footsteps. Two dark heads whipped around to watch as the dining room door opened and in walked an exhausted looking Remus Lupin. Looking up to see two worried pairs of green eyes tracking his progress across the room, he gave them both a wan smile before dropping rather ungracefully into his chair.

"Moony?" Harry asked hesitantly, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine Harry. Just a little tired from last night," he tried reassuring the boy but he only frowned in response.

"You look more than a 'little' tired," the he argued, "You look a whole 'lot' tired."

Evan snorted a little at that comment before frowning also.

"He's right, you don't look too good."

"Why thank you Evan, you know just what to say to make a wizard feel good about himself," Remus said dryly, reaching for the glass of pumpkin juice set at his place.

Observing the slight shaking of the man's hand as he lifted the glass, Evan's frown deepened.

"No, seriously. I thought the transformation was supposed to be less draining with the Wolfsbane."

"It is," Remus replied sadly.

"You mean you usually look even badder?" Harry exclaimed.

"Unfortunately yes. But don't you go worry about it. I'll be fine."

"Well," Harry huffed, "You don't look fine. Here you need to eat something."

The elder wizards watched in amusement as Harry then proceeded to fill the man's plate up and spent the rest of breakfast prodding him to eat and refilling his plate and glass when either began to look empty. When breakfast was finally finished and Remus claimed he could eat not a bite more Harry jumped out of his seat and walked around the table to where his tutor was sitting.

"Er, Harry?" Remus asked as Evan did his best not to laugh, "What are you doing?"

"Chekin' your tempatoor," Harry answered earnestly, patting his hand against Remus's forehead.

"You mean 'temperature'?"

"Uh-huh."

"Right…" the man seemed not to know how to react.

Trying to hide the laughter in his voice, Evan asked, "So doc, how's the patient?"

Harry grinned at the 'doc' comment before resuming his best serious air. He shook his head, a dismal expression settling over his face.

"Not good," he declared gravely, "I think he needs bed rest."

"Bed rest?" Remus exclaimed, "I'm fine really."

"Nu-uh," Harry disagreed firmly, "You look sic and Aunty Alice says the best cure for almost anything is 'bed rest'. Come one."

Evan bit his lip in an effort not to chuckle aloud as Harry grabbed onto the hand of the protesting Remus Lupin and – showing a surprising amount of strength for his waiflike appearance – proceeded to drag him from the room. Not wanting to miss the show, the elder Potter immediately got to his feet and followed after.

He ended up trailing along behind the two of them all the way to the hall for the family quarters – where all three of their rooms could be found – and then into Remus's rooms.

Entering the burgundy, sage green and gold themed bedroom, he watched with a grin as Harry proceeded to force Remus into bed and then pulled the covers up over him before running around the bed to tuck them all in. Remus, realising his protests were going unheeded and that he was now effectively pinned down, threw a pleading glance in Evan's direction. Enjoying the show far too much to step in he merely shook his head and grinned even wider, letting out a quiet laugh as the werewolf mouthed the word 'traitor' at him.

"There, now you need to get some sleep, okay," Harry order standing up as straight as his diminutive hight would allow, hands on hips and a stern expression on his face.

"I'd love to stay here and rest for you Harry," Remus tried to reason, "But I have work to do today."

"No you don't" Evan said faux innocently, "You get the day of and the days before and after the full moon off, remember?"

Giving a glare to his employer, Remus tried another excuse.

"I'm afraid I just don't feel like sleeping right now."

Hearing the seriousness in the man's voice actually gave Harry pause. He cocked his head to the side in thought and Remus actually began to hope before the boy suddenly shouted loudly.

"Aha! I know just the think to help you sleep," then turned on his heel and raced out of the room.

Slumping down with a great sigh he actually turned to pout at Evan, only causing the teen to finally laugh aloud.

"You could have helped me," he said with a whine in his voice – although he would deny making any such vocalisation had he been called upon it.

"Why would I do that? I was having such fun watching the show," Evan grinned unrepentantly before sobering, "Seriously though Remus, he's just worried about you… we both are," he added shyly avoiding the man's eyes, then coughed awkwardly, "Anyways, just let him fuss over you; for my entertainment if nothing else."

He grinned up at Remus only to find the man staring fixedly at him. Realising his little joke had not drawn the werewolf's attention from his earlier comment as hoped he felt his cheeks redden a little. After a further moment's scrutiny, Remus gave a soft smile then leaned back with a falsely aggrieved sounding sigh.

"Oh, very well," he said, rolling his eyes in an overdone manner, "I _suppose_ I can endure a little pampering."

"I know that will be very hard for you," Evan said with mock seriously.

"Oh, indubitably," Remus replied with equal gravity before both simultaneously broke out into grins and gave a few chuckles.

At the sound of the door reopening the both turned to see Harry re-enter the room, puffing and out of breath, with a stuffed toy tucked under each arm.

"I'm back," he announced unnecessarily before presenting the toys to a confused Remus, "Here you go."

"Er, what exactly should I do with them?" he asked, looking at the toys in his hands.

Harry rolled his eyes, "Cuddle them of course. Aunty Alice got them because she said every boy needs a cuddle toy. They help you sleep you see. Anyways I figured since you're not really a boy anymore, maybe you'll need two of them. That's why I got Miss Wiggie as well."

"Miss Wiggie?"

"Uh-huh. That's the owl; she's Evan's. The other one's called Mr Wormy and he's mine."

"Ah," was all Remus could think to say.

"You don't mind that I borrowed her, do you Evan?" Harry said, suddenly worried.

"No that's fine," he replied immediately, looking to Remus to see what he would do.

The man seemed set to object before suddenly looking from Harry to Evan and giving that same soft smile as he had before and instead burrowing further under his covers, taking the Mr Wormy and Miss Wiggie with him.

Seeing his tutor was finally surrendering Harry smiled and clapped his hands together happily before grabbing Evan's hand and dragging him from the room.

"Wha- where are we going?"

"Away," Harry explained as though it should be obvious, "Uncle Moony needs peace and quiet so he can sleep."

Both Remus and Evan quirked an eyebrow at the new name but neither said anything.

"Goodnight then boys," Remus called.

"Night Uncle Moony," Harry called.

"Yeah, night _Uncle Moony_," Evan parroted with a smirk.

The newly dubbed 'Uncle Moony' merely rolled his eyes as the boys departed the room, the door closing softly behind them.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	22. The Subject of Schooling

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Just a couple of notes. Firstly, this chapter mentions a ministerial department devoted to education. As far as I know there are only seven departments in cannon and none address schooling and education at all. Hence me taking artistic license and creating the one for this story. This new department will be responsible for such offices as 'Wizarding Examinations Authority' and 'Board of Governors' to name a few. Also, to avoid any confusion that would be caused by me shunting several departments down or up a level to make room for my new one, I've decided to simply have the Department of Education and Schooling located on floor eight, beyond the atrium and security desk._

_Secondly, does anyone know if there's a non gender specific word to describe both witches and wizards? I couldn't find one and this is the first chapter where I've wanted to use one. For the story they will henceforth be called 'magicians' since I can't seem to find a cannon word for it._

_That's all folks._

**Chapter 22 – The Subject of Schooling**

– Sun, 8/5/1988 –

Excitement of the full moon aside, the days at Potter Manor passed by without too much drama and life had already settled into a sort of routine. Every week day at a quarter to eight Alice would floo over to drop her son off before heading to work. Neville and Harry then had a little time together before having to report for lessons at precisely nine o'clock. Their tutoring continued till three o'clock except for a half hour tea break at ten and an hour long lunch recess at twelve thirty.

For the moment, the tutoring covered only the basics; reading, writing, mathematics, magical history and Latin, the last of which Evan had decided to sit in on. The language _was_ important in magic and spell casting after all and he had never before had the opportunity to learn it. The two younger boys found it odd at first that the elder Potter boy was also only a beginner in the subject and Neville had been quite smug to discover that his knowledge in the area was more advanced than Evan's.

As for the lessons themselves, Remus and Evan had initially decided upon using the library for classes until Harry had made a discovery. The boy had been down in the ward room chatting with Lady Gwendolyn – as he was often want to do, much to the portrait's delight – when he had mentioned the fact that Remus would soon begin tutoring he and his friend. When Gwen made a comment to the effect of it being 'nice to think that the old classroom would be made use of again' the boy had been quite confused. Further questioning revealed that one of the rooms near to the library was set up as a classroom for the educating of Potter children pre-Hogwarts. Harry had then informed the two elder wizards and all three had then gone to inspect the room finding it exactly as Gwen had described. Remus in particular had been very excited at the idea of having a proper classroom to teach in and Evan had privately wondered whether his dimension's Moony might not have been fulfilling a long held dream by getting to teach at Hogwarts in his third year.

Back on the subject of the daily routine; after three o'clock lessons ended and the boys had the rest of the day to do what they wished – within reason of course – until Alice arrived to pick Neville up, which was usually shortly after four o'clock.

For the first week or so, the boys had opted to spend most of that time with Remus as Harry peppered him with questions about his parents and godfather. Evan always chose to join them for those question and answer sessions and at first Remus had found the teen's avid interest in his uncle and aunt a tad odd. After the boy explained his history though – or rather the false one he had concocted – the werewolf had understood better, assuming that he was simply desperate to know anything of his family; which was true, only not in the way Moony thought

Still, whilst the stories of how Lily and James had met, their first date, the day of their marriage and other such things were wonderful for the Potter boys to hear, Neville was much more interested in hearing of the infamous Marauders. Both the Longbottom and Potter heirs were fascinated with hearing of all the trouble the four friends had gotten into.

Perhaps the boys' rather overwhelming interest in such stories should have been a hint. As it was though, neither Remus nor Evan suspected a thing until one day during their morning tea break they took a bite of their food only to find themselves with bright pink hair and saw that the two little boys were rolling in their seats in laughter.

Evan had expected Remus to scold Neville – which he had – as he had done the same for Harry. What he hadn't expected however was what happened during morning tea the next day. Both the younger boys had just taken a sip of their pumpkin juice when they suddenly turned green with yellow polka dots. Both had looked at each other, obviously stunned, and Moony had stated rather plainly, "Never prank a prankster", with a surprisingly devious smirk plastered on his face.

What followed from there on was the equivalent of a decidedly odd prank war. One day the boys would play a prank on their tutor – or at the very least attempt to since Moony was often clever enough to avoid them – and the next they would find themselves as the prankees. The odd part about it all was that after every trick played by the boys – whether successful or not – Remus would give them a critique of their performance; good points, bad points, ways to improve. After a time the boys had even started carrying about spare parchment and a self-inking quill so they could take notes. For his part, Evan was simply grateful that all their efforts were focussed on each other rather than him.

All up, it had been just short of a month since Moony's arrival and today they were all visiting Longbottom Manor for dinner. Swallowing the bite of food she had been eating, Alice turned to younger boys.

"So, have you both been enjoying your lessons?"

"It's lots of fun," Harry nodded enthusiastically but Neville just wrinkled his nose up.

"Neville?"

"They're okay I guess," he said reluctantly, "It's just that learning is so boring!"

"You haven't been making trouble for Remus have you?" she asked sternly and Neville adopted a look of mock affront.

"Would I do such a thing?"

Alice rolled her eyes, "I know how you are with lessons Neville Longbottom and I'm not so quick to forget all the trouble you used to put Nanny Adella through."

"He's not so bad," Remus broke in, "He's needs a little extra encouragement at times but when he puts in the proper effort his work is quite good."

"He doesn't try to skip out on lessons on you?"

"I don't let him," Harry piped up as he reached across the table for the mashed potato.

"Here you are dear," Alice passed him the bowl then asked, "And what do you been by 'you don't let him'."

"Nothing!" Neville suddenly exclaimed, clamping a hand over his friend's mouth, "He doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Mmph uma mafh," came Harry muffled voice as he tried to pry the hand away.

Evan snorted and explained, "The first day of classes Neville tried to convince Harry it would be more fun to sneak off and play gobstones. Of course, there was no way Harry here was willing to miss his first lesson so he dragged Neville all the way to the classroom."

Remus merely raised an eyebrow at hearing the story whilst Alice turned a severe and disappointed expression to her son. Neville meanwhile just stared at Evan in confusion.

"How did you know?" he blurted out, unintentionally confirming the story.

"I was on my way to Harry's room to remind you both that lessons would be starting when I overheard you," he managed to explain before Mrs Longbottom exploded.

"Neville Frank Longbottom I am very disappointed in you!" she yelled and the boy winced, "I can only be grateful that Harry seems to have more sense about him than you do. Rest assured though that if I ever hear of you skipping class again there will be very serious consequences."

"Yes mother," he automatically responded, "I'm sorry, it won't happen again."

"You see that it doesn't," she nodded, satisfied and Neville relaxed a little.

"Besides," he added without thought, "It'd be no fun to skip if Harry's going to the lessons anyways. I keep trying to convince him there are more fun things to do but he won't listen."

"Neville," she cried in exasperation and the manor's three guests chuckled aloud.

"Sorry," he automatically said before allowing, "It's not _that_ bad I suppose. Mr Moony _is_ a brilliant teacher and he makes it more interesting."

"Er, thank you Neville," the man replied quietly although Evan and Alice both observed a slight blush of pleasure on his cheeks at the compliment.

"Speaking of lessons," Alice spoke up, "I've been thinking we should be getting the boys on the road to learning magic sometime soon as we had previously discussed."

The boys perked up at this and Evan nodded.

"You're probably right. The sooner the better. We want to make sure they're as prepared as possible before they get to Hogwarts."

Remus, who had been listening to the conversation in confusion, finally spoke up.

"Sorry but why exactly did you want to start the boys off so early?"

Four pairs of eyes stared blankly at him for a moment before widening in understanding.

"Oh! We forgot to tell Uncle Moony," Harry was the first to exclaim.

"Maybe they didn't want to," Neville suggested, "It _is_ a secret after all."

"Don't be silly dear; we simply forgot is all. We all know Remus is trustworthy," Alice said before hesitating and glancing towards Evan realising she may be assuming too much.

The Potter Head merely nodded in agreement however.

"Exactly. Although I'm not sure how we all managed to forget something so important."

Remus, whilst feeling a twinge of happiness to know they all trusted him, was becoming more and more confused. Fortunately Alice noticed his bewilderment and patted his arm, turning towards Evan.

"Evan dear why don't you explain, hmm?"

Nodding in agreement he began doing just that. He began by asking if he knew the reason the Potters and Longbottoms had gone into hiding.

"From what I understand a certain, organisation-"

"The Order of the Phoenix," Evan supplied.

"You know about the Order," Remus asked in surprise.

"Of course he does," Alice said rolling her eyes, "You'll come to get used to this young man knowing things he ought not to."

"I, er-" Harry stuttered.

"Perhaps one day he may even explain to us just how he does it."

Evan shifted in his seat, fiddling with his cutlery, uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. He was also worried to notice Remus was now giving him fairly scrutinising look. In reality he was surprised it had taken the werewolf this long to start suspecting something was off with him, given that the man was quite bright and had been living in the same house with him for nearly a month now. He supposed at first the elder wizard had been more concerned with seeing Harry again and after that much of his time had been taken up with his teaching.

Not sure what to say in his defence, Evan decided to simply continue on with his explanation about the prophecy, hoping it would distract the man.

"Anyway," he said loudly breaking the silence, "You were explaining what you knew about the reasons for the Potters and Longbottoms going into hiding."

The man stared at him a moment longer, his head cocked to one side, before seeming to shake himself from his musing and answered the question.

"Yes, right. Well, apparently the Order received intelligence that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was targeting both families."

"Did Aunt Lily or Uncle James ever tell you why they were targeted?" Evan asked, still finding it awkward to refer to his parents as such.

"No. If they knew they never said. Why, do you know?"

He nodded, "There was a prophecy made regarding Voldemort," he ignored the flinches, "It suggested that either Neville or Harry would be able to defeat him."

"Neville or Harry? No, never mind that. First, what did the prophecy say?" Remus asked, clearly fascinated with what he was hearing.

Taking a deep breath Evan spoke, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches ... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies ... And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not ... And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives ... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..._"

Silence reigned as he finished although only Remus seemed surprised, the others having heard the prophecy before. Looking up at Harry he paused before asking.

"I take it the 'mark him as his equal' part refers to Harry's scar?" he asked aloud and everyone nodded.

"Yes, we believe so."

"Hence why it was Harry and not Neville who defeated him."

"_Will_ defeat him," Neville corrected and Harry stared silently at his plate.

"What do you mean?" the werewolf asked in confusion and all other eyes turned to Evan.

"What he means is that Voldemort," there was flinching again, "Wasn't really defeated that Halloween night. It was more… a temporary victory."

Remus raised an eyebrow and Evan could tell he was skeptical. He was thankful though to see that rather than scoff, the man instead began to look thoughtful.

"What exactly do you mean by 'temporary victory'?"

"I know there are a lot of theories as to how Harry lived that night. In fact, I happen to know that Dumbledore," there were a few mutters at the mention of that name, "Claims it had something to do with ancient magic, love and the fact that Aunt Lily sacrificed herself to try and save Harry."

"That theory doesn't really make sense," Alice interrupted.

"No it doesn't," Remus agreed, "Many people died in the war and there's no possible way that Lily was the only mother to die trying to save her child."

"Well, Dumbledore must be wrong then," Neville said, stating the obvious.

"Yes, he must be," Evan mumbled to himself with a frown.

He realised that there was no way the old man could not have seen that same loophole. Also, if there had never been any 'ancient magical protection' then it stood to reason that the blood wards on Privet Drive could not possibly have been real, being that the Headmaster had always claimed them to be based on the magic of his mothers sacrifice. Under other circumstances he would have thrown a tantrum at those revelations. As it was however, he was becoming so used to uncovering Dumbledore's lies that he merely added these ones to his long list of grievances against the man.

"Well," he said, finally gathering himself together again, "Regardless of the how, everyone agrees that You-Know-Who was 'defeated' when the killing curse reflected off of Harry and back at him."

"Leaving this scar," Harry murmured, tracing the lightning bolt.

"Leaving that scar," Evan agreed, his own hands unconsciously tracing his own through the material of his slacks before he continued, "Anyway, what I think – and this is just a theory mind you – is that because the curse didn't hit him directly, it didn't kill him. Instead it cast his spirit out of his body."

Remus stared at him for a moment before saying, "I don't mean to sound rude but that's a very questionable theory Evan. You're assuming a great deal with little evidence."

Knowing it was important to convince the werewolf that Voldemort was still out there – even if he was unsure as to the how – he didn't back down and merely stared determinedly at the man.

"However it happened, I do know for sure that Voldemort _is_ still out there in spirit form, looking for a way to regain a body," he said firmly, his gaze not wavering.

Remus once again stared at him for a long moment before speaking.

"I'm inclined to think you're telling the truth. I don't suppose you could explain how you've come to all these conclusions could you?"

Evan winced, "No, but I swear it's the truth."

Before the man could respond, Alice once laid a hand over his, "He's telling the truth."

Moony stared at her in confusion a moment before nodding in understanding.

"Oh, right; Empath," he muttered.

The two younger boys – who had been quiet for some time – took the following silence as the opportunity to speak up.

"So we can learn magic then?" Harry asked looking eager.

"Yeah, Harry needs to start training in case You-Know-Who comes back and I need to as well so I can help him."

Remus nodded, "Yes, I can see now why it would be important for you both to start learning magic early. Even without the prophecy You-Know-Who would target Harry as revenge for defeating him," he looked at Alice and Evan, "I take it you'll be wanting your boys to focus on defence against the dark arts?"

Both nodded.

"Well, I suppose that shouldn't be too much trouble on my part, although you may have some trouble acquiring wands given that it's illegal to sell a wand for a child less than eleven years old," he pointed out.

The three boys looked worried at that but Alice was quick to reassure them.

"Don't worry about that. It's one of those loopholes in the law designed to benefit the purebloods."

"What do you mean?" Evan asked.

"Well, whilst it's illegal to _buy_ a wand for a child less than eleven, it's not illegal for them to use them," a the elder Potter's still confused expression she continued, "You see dear, most every pureblood family will have a supply of wands on hand from the generations of wizards and witches past. Most families will take their children to their vault – or wherever they keep the wands - at about Harry and Neville's age and match them up as best as they can until they can get their own wand at Ollivander's."

"So we won't really be ahead then?" Harry asked, sounding a little disappointed.

"Never mind that," Neville interrupted, "I want to know why you weren't going to get me a wand before this whole prophecy business like most other kids."

Alice merely snorted, "With all the trouble you get into without a wand I didn't want to tempt fate," she said dryly, ignoring her son's indignant 'harrumph', "And as for your question Harry dear, most other young wizards and witches who get their stand-in wands early only learn very basic things such as how to use them properly. They usually focus on control by performing exercises such as concentrating on creating more and less sparks from their wand."

"So we _will_ be ahead then," he asked hopefully and grinned when she nodded.

"I've never heard of that before," Evan said, "If it helps so much with control then why don't they start with things like that at Hogwarts?"

"Yet another case of favouring the pure-blooded families I'm afraid. Since it's only the muggle-born and occasional half-blooded student who miss out they simply don't care," she explained, "It's also the reason you'll find that a lot of the muggle raised students struggle more than their wizard raised counterparts at first."

"Well, have you heard of these exercises?" he asked looking towards Remus and the man nodded.

"I have. I never got the opportunity to learn them myself when I was younger though. It wasn't until third year when James and Sirius mentioned it in passing and I convinced them to teach me. It probably didn't benefit me as much as it would have had I learnt them before starting school but I still noticed an increase in my control over my spell casting after I'd practiced them for some time."

"Will you teach us them then?" Neville asked.

"Yes, I suppose that would be the best place to start after you get your stand-in wands. I think I'll get you both to cover some magical theory as well before you get started on any proper spells," the man mused aloud, already making plans for his lessons in his head.

"What about the underage laws," Evan asked suddenly as the thought occurred to him.

"That's a very similar situation to the wands one," Alice told him.

"Aimed to the disadvantage of the muggle-raised?"

She nodded, "Technically, the law states that an under-aged magician cannot use magic unless at Hogwarts or in the presence and under the guidance of an adult witch or wizard."

"How do the Ministry tell if someone's in the presence of the required adult when they perform magic?"

"That's the thing," she explained, "They can't. So, they simply ignore magic caused by young witches and wizards who are in the wizarding areas-"

"And penalise those in muggle ones."

"Exactly."

Evan's lip curled in distaste at yet more evidence of the unfairness of the magical world. Fortunately, just then dinner disappeared from the table before desert was sent, up distracting him from his sour moon. The other three watched in amusement and the two sweet loving Potter boys dug into the deserts with abandon.

"Whilst we're on the subject of schooling," Alice said, helping herself to desert at a much more sedate pace, "I've been wondering recently what you intend to do about your own schooling Evan."

Looking up with wide eyes, the teen hastily swallowed his overfull mouthful of treacle tart so he could respond.

"How do you mean?" he asked.

"Evan, child, you need to start thinking of your education," she said sternly before brusquely informing him, "I think you should return to Hogwarts in September."

Harry, hearing the comment, paused with a spoonful of custard halfway to his mouth and looked worriedly between his honorary aunt and his elder self.

"Y-you're not leaving are you?" he asked quietly, his upset clear in his voice.

"No, of course not," Evan hurried to reassure him, rubbing a comforting over the boy's back then looking pointedly at Alice, "I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying at home to look after you."

Rather than the stern look he expected, he found that the woman's expression had softened somewhat on seeing Harry's reaction.

"Harry, sweetie, I'm not suggesting he go away for good," she explained soothingly to them both, "But Evan, you cannot simply neglect your education."

Seeing the determined expression on Alice's face, he tried to look for support but the werewolf seemed to agree with her.

"Your schooling is very important Evan," was all he said.

As a last resort he looked to Neville only to watch as the boy's eyes widened as he held his hands up defensively, shaking his head from side to side.

"Oh no, don't look at me. I know better than to try and argue with mum when she looks like that," he said quickly, much to everyone's amusement and Evan turned back to Alice.

"I can't just go off for months and leave Harry behind," he argued.

"I'm not suggesting you do," she said, much to his confusion.

"… huh?"

She rolled her eyes, "You dear, are an adult in the eyes of the law, correct?"

"Er, yes."

"Well, you may not know this but despite being a student, as an adult you would be allowed to leave the school grounds whenever you wish provided you inform either your head of house or the headmaster. What I'm suggesting is that you enrol at Hogwarts but only spend the time for your classes at the school. You could arrive at Hogwarts in the mornings and return home at the end of the day. You would of course also spend the entirely of your weekends at home."

After she had finished explaining, Evan stared at her open mouthed. Well, she just had it all figured out didn't she?

"It's a good plan," Remus said, inserting his opinion.

And, he had to admit, it did indeed sound like a very reasonable plan. Still, he wasn't willing to agree until he knew Harry was okay with it. Turning to the boy, he asked his opinion on the matter.

"So, what do you think?"

"Well," the green eyed boy paused to consider it, "I'll still get to see you a lot?"

"Heaps," he assured him, "In fact, most of the time I'm at Hogwarts, you'll be in lessons with Remus and Neville anyway."

"Well… Okay," he finally said with a smile, "I think that sounds alright."

Grinning back he then turned to Alice and bowed mockingly in his seat.

"I concede to your greater wisdom. I will indeed attend Hogwarts in the coming term."

"Good," she said with a sniff and a satisfied nod, "As you should."

..ooOOoo..

– _Wed, 11/5/1988_ –

A couple of days – and several reminders to enrol in Hogwarts – later, Evan decided to go and speak to his account manager, Jarnack. Since Kell had informed him that the wands of Potters past were kept not in the Manor but rather in the family Gringotts vault, he had to visit the bank anyway and decided that he may as well ask the goblin for advice on how to accomplish his other task whilst he was there.

Ascending the marble steps with Harry at his side he then passed through the great doors, entering Gringotts bank, and made his way to the nearest available teller. Informing the grouchy looking goblin that he was here to see Jarnack, they were then led down the now somewhat familiar warren of hallways and left before the door to the Potter office. Raising a fist, he rapped twice.

"Enter," came the voice he knew to belong to his account manager.

Turning the handle he entered the room and closed the door behind him.

"Jarnack," he nodded in greeting and took a seat before the desk whilst Harry did the same beside him.

"And who are- ah, glamours again. Well, Mr Potter? To what do I owe the… _pleasure_," he sneered sarcastically at Evan, "Of your company this morning?"

Quite used to the snarly goblin's manner by now merely rolled his eyes.

"You're as pleasant as ever I see," he muttered before being treated to a glare.

"Hi Mr Jarnack," Harry took the opportunity to chirp.

Evan watched as the goblins expression relaxed somewhat as he nodded to the younger Potter. He still couldn't get over the fact that the sarcastic little fellow seemed to have a soft spot for his ward – although he was still not entirely convinced Jarnack didn't do it just to put him off.

"Mr Harry Potter," the goblin replied almost amicable before turning back to Evan, "Well, what do you want?"

Deciding to get down to the reason for his visit, he began explaining.

"I need your assistance with two things."

Jarnack's sneer lessened a fraction as he straightened up in a businesslike manner, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"And what would these two things be?"

"Well the main reason I've come is that I need to go down to the Potter vault."

"I'm getting a stand-in wand," Harry explained excitedly.

"Are you indeed?"

"Aunt Alice, Moony and I decided that given the situation we ought to start Harry on defence training earlier than usual," Evan explained.

"Aunt Alice and '_Moony_'?" the goblin sneered at the last name.

"Alice is Alice Longbottom, the Empath friend I mentioned to you last time."

"And the other?"

"Uncle Moony is my new tutor," Harry said proudly.

"Ah, Remus Lupin; the werewolf," at Evan's surprised expression he continued in a sarcastic tone, "You did file papers here at Gringotts for Mr Lupin and stated that part of his pay was to be Wolfsbane potion."

"Oh, right," he said, looking sheepish.

"Do these two know of your past also?"

"No," Evan shook his head, "Apart from you and Elder Rockwell, the only others who know are Harry, the family's house-elves, and a portrait of one of our ancestors by the name of Gwen."

Jarnack nodded, "Well, you could have asked a teller in the lobby and had a cart goblin take you to your vault. Since you've chosen instead to bother me, what was the second reason for you visit?"

He merely rolled his eyes at the his account manager's rather irreverent choice of phrasing and ignored Harry's giggling – for some reason the boy persisted in finding the goblin's rather scathing personality amusing.

"I was wanting-"

"Aunty Alice and Uncle Moony made him," Harry interjected in a loud whisper and Evan gave him a petulant stare.

"I was _wanting_ to get enrolled for Hogwarts this coming September. I was just wondering if you knew how to do that. I asked Aunt Alice and Moony and they only knew that new students made their way onto the lists automatically – they didn't know how the school deals with supposedly foreign pupils."

"Ah, I see," the goblin settled back in his chair with his long wrinkled fingers entwined and resting on his chest, "In order to enrol, usually a child's legal guardian must go to the Ministry's Department of Education and Schooling and fill in a number of forms."

"Guardian?" he asked but Jarnack waved a dismissive hand at him.

"_Usually_ Mr Potter, _usually_. Do pay attention. Since you are a legal adult you can simply sign yourself up. There is a slight complication with the plan however."

"What kind of complication?" he asked cautiously.

"I believe you just recently completed your OWL year in your original dimension."

"Yes, fifth year."

"Well, in order to enter as a sixth year or beyond, you are required to present OWL results – or rather your supposed former country's equivalent of them."

"But, I don't have any in this world. Heck, I left before I even received the ones where I came from. What should I do?" he asked worriedly.

"Beyond stating the obvious?"

Sigh, "Yes, beyond that. And stop laughing at me Harry!"

"Well, the tests are held yearly only which means if you wish to sit for them you will have to do so next month," he said and watched Evan pale, "Shall I deduce from your pallid complexion and gaping jaw that you feel unprepared to sit the exams so soon?"

"Er- I- that is to say, yes," he said, feeling flustered, "Merlin, I was barely prepared to take them the last time! What with Umbridge-"

"The toad!"

Snicker, "Yes Harry, the toad. What with the toad and all the visions I was getting all year, I wasn't even feeling particularly prepared for the tests last time I took them. After the break from studying, I doubt I'll do very well if I have to take them next month."

"Hmm… If I might make a suggestion?"

"As if I could stop you," he muttered too quietly for Jarnack to hear although Harry did giggle a little, indicating he had overheard. Evan threw him a wink, "Suggest away Jarnack."

"Perhaps it would be most beneficial if you simply enrol to repeat your fifth year. That way you will have a year of revising before you take the OWLs once again."

"I'd have to be in classes with younger kids then though," he said with uncertainty and his account manager gave an indelicate snort.

"You're not a small child anymore. At your age a year is hardly that much difference."

"I suppose so."

"Also, given that you are supposed to have been raised and home schooled by a squib, it would be perfectly understandable to others that your education would be behind somewhat."

Finding Jarnack's reasoning to be quite sound, he nodded and agreed to the idea. That settled, the goblin decided to escort them to their vault personally and led the way to the Gringotts carts. One wild cart ride later – which Harry enjoyed very much – and they arrived at the Potter vault. Exiting the cart, Evan approached the double doors and laid his right hand upon them.

"Open."

With a barely audible click the doors swung inwards and – despite having seen it before – Evan could not help the gasp of awe that escaped him upon seeing the contents of the vault.

"Wow," he heard whispered behind him.

Turning around he looked down to see Harry staring into the vault also, appearing quite shocked. Shaking his head, the boy looked up at his elder cousin.

"This is all yours?" Evan nodded, "You're bloody rich."

Although he knew as a parent he ought to scold the boy, given the situation he found the statement fitting and so he merely chuckled and ruffled Harry's hair. As the boy pouted and reached his little hands up to pat his hair back down – a pointless exercise given that it was currently glamoured anyway – Evan made an amendment to the boy's amusing declaration.

"_We_'re rich," he said and watched the pout disappear to be replaced by a look of confusion.

"'We'?"

"Yes, 'we'. If I ever die," at the panicking expression he reassured, "Not that I intend for that to happen for many, many, _many_ years. But, if I do, then all of this will be willed to you. In the meantime, when you come of age I intend to allow you full access to this vault."

"Really?" Harry squeaked, eyes wide.

"Really. For the meantime though, there's a trust vault set up in your name with a fair amount of gold in it already. You already have access to that one – it's intended to get you through your Hogwarts years."

Explanations given he turned back to the vault and passed through the doors. There was the soft sound of following footsteps before Jarnack's voice suddenly rang out.

"Stop."

Unfortunately his warning had come too late as there was a flash of blue light and followed by an "Oomph" sound. Spinning around quickly he saw a faint shimmering of blue light visible over the doorway before it faded from view. Then, looking down, he took in the sight of Harry sitting on his rear just outside the doorway and staring at it with wide, blinking eyes.

"Ow," the boy said, his voice sounding somewhat between confused and annoyed.

Stepping forwards and helping his charge to his feet, he watched Harry rub his bottom and glare suspiciously at the vault before asking what had happened.

"The wards prevented young Harry Potter's entrance into the vault," Jarnack informed him.

"It was like I ran into a wall of blue jelly and then I was pushed back and fell over," Harry added his interpretation of events.

"You are fortunate young one that you are of Potter blood. Had someone not so tried to gain access to the vault, the results would have been somewhat more, _unpleasant_," he informed them ominously but Evan just snorted.

"You really have a fondness for that word don't you?" at the glare he couldn't help adding a quick, "Sorry."

"So I can't go in?" Harry piped up.

"You can enter child. The owner of the vault may grant temporary access to any other simply by taking their hand as they pass over the threshold. These access rights are withdrawn automatically when they exit the vault however."

"Oh," Harry said and looked up at Evan hopefully.

Smiling, he held out a hand for the boy to take before turning to Jarnack and holding out another.

"Care to come in with us?"

Seeing the dumbfounded expression on his usually stoic account manager's face, he wondered if he had accidentally committed some goblin insult.

"Er? Jarnack?" he asked hesitantly, snapping him out of his daze.

"Apologies Mr Potter, it is simply- well, humans generally make it a point to not allow goblins into their family vaults. It is a matter of lacking trust you see."

"Are you gonna steal anything?" Harry asked.

"Of course not!" Jarnack said indignantly.

"Then why shouldn't Evan let you in?" he finished innocently, causing the goblin to deflate, "Right Evan?"

Looking at the face staring up at him he agreed.

"Right," he held out his second hand once more, "Coming?"

With a hesitant expression that seemed out of place on his gnarly face, Jarnack reached out and took hold of the offered hand. Not letting go of either of the other two, Evan then stepped over the threshold and into the vault. Apart from a faint shimmer of blue light, the entrance made no objection to the foreigners passing through it and so Evan felt safe to release both their hands.

"There's so much," Harry whispered.

The boy appeared once again in awe now that he could see the vault from the inside and Evan noted that even Jarnack seemed impressed. He couldn't blame either of them as the inside of the vault extended not only backwards but also off to the sides for quite a distance that could not be seen from the entrance.

Pausing for a moment he looked around, reacquainting himself with the chamber. Most of the gold and jewels were stored towards the right side of the room. Great hills of gold galleons reaching nearly to the ceiling were flanked by two smaller but no less impressive piles – one containing silver sickles and the other bronze knuts. As for the jewels, these were stored in large cauldrons – one each for diamonds, rubies, sapphires, emeralds, and nearly every other gem one could conceive.

To the left of the room were the rest of the vault's diverse contents. There could be found such things as furniture, tapestries, portraits, clothes, books, jewellery, weapons, armour, heirlooms, various knickknacks and other items too numerous to catalogue. Evan was certain that the wands would be found somewhere amongst that lot.

"Well," he interrupted the silence, "What say we all start looking for those wands. Three sets of eyes are better than one."

Everyone in agreement, they all began wading through the vault, seeking out the wands. As he searched through everything, Evan saw a number of interesting things such as antique brooms, various dark detectors and even a pensive, but he ignored them for now, continuing his search.

"I think I found them!" Harry's voice rang out and he headed towards it, meeting up there with Jarnack also.

"Found the wands then?"

"Yep. Here."

Harry pointed what appeared somewhat like a large bookcase only with rows of cubby-holes rather than shelves. Stepping towards it, Evan could see that most of the compartments housed a wand. Also, below each cubby-hole was a small bronze plaque, and those plaques beneath a wand-bearing compartment had a name engraved into them.

"I wonder what the plaques mean?" he mused aloud.

"I would theorise," Jarnack said, "That they name the original bearer of the wand."

"Oh," he said, blinking in surprise and realising that most of the names were indeed Potters, "I suppose that rather makes sense then."

"Do I get to pick one now?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Sure. I suppose since I'm not in anyway a professional when it comes to wands we'll just have to try them one at a time until we find the best fit," he said until a thought occurred to him, "Unless you happen to know something about wand fitting Jarnack?"

The goblin shook his head and so they decided to go with the trial and error method. Taking down the first wand, whose owner had been one 'Bartholomew Reynard Potter' he handed it to Harry, telling him to give it a wave. The following explosion fortunately only destroyed a file of pillows and bedding. Watching as the downy feathers floated down about them, he mused that perhaps they should find a safer direction for Harry to point his wand.

"I- I'm sorry," the boy's worried voice drew his attention, "I didn't mean it. I promise."

He looked down at the pale, wide-eyed boy and saw that he was now holding the wand by the tips of his fingers and as far away from his body as he could, as though he feared it would come alive and bite him at any moment. As a feather settled on his nose Evan couldn't help himself and burst into laughter. After a time he looked up again to find two pairs of eyes looking at him – one seemingly indifferent and the other curious.

"Are you okay Evan?"

"I'm fine Harry," he chuckled, "This just reminds me a little of when I first got my first wand. Don't worry about the pillows, they're easily fixed. _Reparo_. There, all better. I should have thought about what might happen before I gave it to you," he said then paused as he noticed the wall near the wand-case, blank but for a few scorch marks, "Huh, I guess that's probably what that wall is for. Here, let me put this wand back and you can try the next one. Just remember to aim it at that wall."

He handed Harry the next wand – once belonging to 'Prudence Elsa Potter née Swan' – and the boy waved it in the prescribed direction. It barely gave off a spark. And so began a lengthy process as they worked their way through countless wands, trying to find the best match. One of the names, 'Thaddeus Edmund Potter' was familiar and he recalled it as being the name of the portrait Gwendolyn's husband. He believed that theory confirmed when the wand beside it was shown to be labelled 'Gwendolyn Phoebe Potter née Gryffindor'.

Halfway down the wand-case Jarnack had come up with the ingenious idea that Evan try out the wands as well since they were the same person with the same magic. A few test waves showed the Potter boys to give nearly identical results with the wands – confirming the goblin's theory – and so they were able to speed up the process.

Eventually they were nearing the lowermost pigeonholes and were beginning to despair of finding a decent match. Unfortunately, very few of the wands were favourably responsive and those which were sent off only a few pitiful sparks. Still, since they were the best of the bunch, when they replaced them on their shelves they left them sticking out slightly so they could find them again easily.

Just as Evan was about to pick up his next wand, a burst of sparks erupted from the wand Harry had been testing. Staring at the twinkling gold and purple lights in surprise, he gave his grinning cousin a congratulatory smile.

"Well done. Whose wand was that?" he asked and watched Harry bend down to read the plaque.

"Isa-bel-la, Isabella Helen Potter née Gray," he read aloud before holding the wand out to Evan, "Want to try it?"

Accepting eagerly, he gave it a wave and watched as more sparks replaced those which had almost faded from view.

"I think this is the one. It's not nearly as good a fit as my phoenix and holly wand but it feels alright," he said and handed the wand back, "I wonder what it's made of?"

"Why not perform the spell and find out?" Jarnack suggested only be treated to a confused expression.

"There's a spell for that?"

"Of course," the goblin rolled his eyes, "How else do you suppose the security desk at the ministry is able to inspect the wands that pass through? They enchanted the wand-scale with the wand identifying spell."

"Oh," he blinked, "I guess I never really thought about it. Anyway, what's the incantation and wand movement? I'll give it a whirl."

After having the spell explained to him a few times, he took the wand from Harry once again and then cast the spell upon it. Ghostly grey letters began to form in the air above the wand.

"Holly again; not surprising. And… Runespoor fang?"

"I think I read about them. They're three headed snakes. What's wrong with having a Runespoor fang core?" Harry asked curiously.

"Nothing I guess, just strange is all. I suppose because my proper wand has a phoenix feather core. They're kind of opposites since the wizarding world tends to see phoenixes as a symbol for good and snakes as a symbol of evil," he explained and Jarnack snorted.

"The wizarding world has many erroneous opinions about a great many things," he said disdainfully.

"Row-nee-us?" Harry asked in confusion.

"Erroneous. It means wrong."

"Oh. So it's not a bad wand then?" he asked hesitantly

"Of course not," Evan reassured him, "It's probably just because we're Parselmouths."

"What's a 'Parselmouth'?"

"Oh right, a Parselmouth is a person who can talk to snakes," he said and Harry's eyes widened.

"I can talk to snakes?" he exclaimed.

"Yep. One time at the zoo I even set a python on Dudley."

"Really?" Harry said delightedly and he nodded.

"You should probably warn your charge about popular opinion of Parselmouths," Jarnack then advised him.

"What's he mean Evan?"

"Magicians tend to see Parseltongue as a dark talent and if they knew you spoke it they'd probably think you were dark as well."

"Oh, so I should keep it a secret?"

"That's up to you. I wouldn't tell anyone I don't trust though," he cautioned and Harry nodded, "Now, we'd best get you back home. Your lunch break is nearly over and Remus will be resuming lessons soon."

..ooOOoo..

After dropping Harry back off at the Manor and leaving the holly and Runespoor wand in Moony's care – Harry would not be able to keep it on his person until he demonstrated some control – Evan flooed to the Ministry of Magic.

Arriving in the Atrium in a pile on the floor he quickly picked himself up – cheeks pink from embarrassment – and made his way over to the golden gates marking the security desk. Behind the desk sat a bored looking wizard with a bewhiskered face. As Evan approached the man withdrew a long, whippy looking golden rod and began to pass it down Evan's front when it suddenly glowed. He looked worriedly at the man who was now fixing him with a glare.

"You have either concealment spells or hidden magical objects upon your person."

Flustered and realising it was his 'Barney' glamour that the rod was detecting, Evan blurted out the first excuse he could think of.

"Pimples!" he practically yelled then flushed red in embarrassment.

Luckily, the guard seemed to assume his fluster and blush were due to his unfortunate supposed skin condition rather than a lie.

"Glamour over the zits then?" he grumbled then shook his head, "Right, stand there whilst I cast the truth spell on you."

"Truth spell?" he asked worriedly.

"To determine whether you're carrying concealed magical items since the rod ain't gonna stop detecting the glamour," he said impatiently.

Surprised but thankful that the guard had not simply asked him to remove the glamour, he curiously questioned the man as to why that was not the case.

"Because, if we demanded all witches to remove their cosmetic charms at the gate, they'd hex us up one side and down the other. Used to make them anyway until some poor sod had his bits hexed shrunk. After that we changed the rules," the man explained, sounding annoyed with his persistent questions, "Now, hold still whilst I cast the spell. _Veritas_. Now, are you carrying any concealed magical objects?"

"No," he said and the man nodded and dispelled the charm.

"Right then. Next, wand," he demanded and Evan handed his over.

The man then proceeded to drop his wand on a strange brass instrument which he remembered from his visit to the Ministry for his trial a year ago – and what Jarnack had referred to as a wand-scale. As expected, the instrument began to vibrate before spitting out a strip of parchment which the guard tore off and read aloud

"Holly with a phoenix feather core, eleven inches long, in use for approximately five years. That all correct?'

"Yes sir," he nodded.

"Here," the man handed him back his wand, impaled the parchment on a small bronze spike on his desk and then proceeded to ignore him completely.

Deciding that was as polite a dismissal as he was likely to get, Evan pocket his wand and passed through the gate into the hall beyond – which was lined with lifts – before realising he wasn't sure where to go. He turned back to the security guard.

"Excuse me sir?" he spoke and watched the man give an annoyed sigh.

"What do you want?"

"Sorry, but do you know what level the Department of Education and Schooling is on?"

"This one. It's past the hall of lifts," he responded and then turned back around to deal with the witch who had just stepped up to the desk.

Taking the man for his word, Evan turned and walked off through the hall – ignoring the lifts – until he came to the back wall with a set of double doors. Turning the handle and stepping through door he found himself in an office with several doors leading off it, each bearing a small sign. Reading some of them, he noted the 'Board of Governors Meeting Room', 'Wizarding Examinations Authority_'_ and 'Apprenticeships and Masteries Office' before finding the door labeled 'Office for Enrolments, Un-enrolments and Transfers'.

Deciding this was the door he was looking for he stepped through and found himself in a sparsely populated waiting room. Ignoring the ruckus the loud children and their scolding parent were making, he lined up at the counter at the back of the room. He soon found himself at the front of the line, facing a middle aged woman with friendly hazel eyes and a genuine smile.

"Good afternoon I'm Julia, what can I do for you today young man?"

"Hi, I want to enrol at Hogwarts for the coming year," he told her and she smiled brightly.

"Good for you, it's really a lovely school. Now, are you transferring from another institution?"

"No," he shook his head, "I've been home schooled in the States up until now."

"America then?" she asked in surprise, "Well you _are_ a long way from home, aren't you? Now, the good news is Gretel – the lady responsible for level testing for delayed enrolments – is perfectly free at the moment and I'd be happy to send you back. Unfortunately, you'll need to have a parent or legal guardian with you to sign off on the paperwork."

"That's okay," he assured her, "I'm emancipated."

"Oh," she blinked at that then smiled again, "In that case what was your name?"

"Evan Potter."

"Lovely. Why don't you take a seat Evan, and I'll let her know you're here."

Nodding, he took the nearest seat available and sat down. A couple minutes later the door at the back of the room swung open and an attractive looking witch with bobbed blonde hair appeared at the door.

"Mr Evan Potter," she called out and he stood up and approached her, "Evan Potter?"

"That's me," he confirmed and she extended a hand for him to shake, "Nice to meet you. I'm Gretel Irving but please call me Gretel. Shall we go through to my office?"

"Sure."

Exiting back through the door she had entered by, they stepped out into a corridor lined with doors on one side. Gretel's shoes clacked loudly on the floor as she led him down to her office, ushering him in and closing the door behind them. The witch then took a seat behind the desk and Evan took one of those in front of it.

"Now, Mr Potter."

"Please, call me Evan."

"Evan then. Julia tells me you're an emancipated minor hailing from the United States and you wish to enrol at Hogwarts. Is that correct?" she asked and he nodded, "Okay, first things first, I'll need to see some documentation or proof that you're a legal adult."

Not knowing what else to do, he presented his hand to the woman, showing off his family's head ring. He witch glanced at it and her eyes widened with surprise then narrowed with suspicion.

"As I understood it, Harry Potter was the only heir to the Potter Family. How then can you be the Head?"

"I'm actually the son of Harry's uncle, who was the elder brother to James Potter, Harry's father."

She nodded but hesitated, "I will need to cast a validation spell."

"Of course," he said, understanding her cautiousness.

The woman waved her wand over his right hand, muttering an incantation then gasped as the ring glowed white for a moment, before returning to normal. She turned wide eyes to him.

"You _are_ the Head of Potter," she said.

He just smiled and nodded. Finally gathering control of herself again she got back to business.

"Okay, next order of business. You said you were raised in America. How long were you there?"

"Since I was born. I've just recently come to England."

"In that case, I will need your international portkey papers to ensure you have entered the country legally. Citizenship papers are not an issue of course; as the head of an Ancient and Noble Family you are automatically granted it."

Not knowing what to do about the lack of portkey papers – and cursing Jarnack for not mentioning them earlier – he searched his mind before coming up with what he thought would be a passable excuse.

"I arrived by plane," he lied and watched her face screw up in confusion.

"Plane?"

"Muggle aircraft," he explained.

"Ah," she nodded, "Well, if you arrived by muggle means then that's fine. We won't need any papers for that either since keeping track of muggle travel is not our responsibility. Now what's next? Okay, Julia said you aren't transferring from another institution – so we don't have to worry about school transcripts – but have you had any home schooling?"

"Yes, my guardian was a squib so he kept me as up to date as he could," he lied.

"Hmm, I don't imagine he was able to help you much with the practical applications though was he?"

"I tend to have a knack for practical wand work anyway," he told her truthfully, "So that's not a problem."

"Very well, we'll see how you go with the level testing. Out of curiosity, what level do you think you're at?"

"Partway through fifth maybe. Something like that."

"Alright then. Now before we get onto the fun stuff, there _are_ some forms you'll need to fill out."

The paperwork was fairly straightforward. Student's name, date of birth, country of birth, home address etc. For the guardian's information section he had only to check that he was emancipated and skip the rest. Under emergency contacts he put down both Moony and Aunt Alice. Finally reaching the end of the parts he needed to fill in – the rest would be done by Gretel after his testing – he signed his name then handed the witch back both the form and her quill.

"Thank you," she said and looked the form over briefly "So you are hoping to qualify for fifth year entrance then? Your age mates will be in sixth year."

"Yes, but I think I'd do better in fifth. It's only a year after all."

"Of course," she set the form aside, before pulling another scroll from a drawer, "Now, how about we do that testing?

"Okay. What do I need to do?"

"Well, since we don't want to have to put each new student through a mound of exams I will instead cast the truth spell on you and ask you what you are capable of. Now the spell won't force you to say anything, it only prevents you from lying. May I cast it now?"

"Okay," he nodded and she waved her wand at him.

"_Veritas_. There, now we'll start with transfiguration. With what level of success can you transfigure a matchstick into a needle?"

"Easily," he replied and the questions went on from there.

The testing went on for over half an hour and covered every subject taught at Hogwarts and even some which weren't. The most notable question was when he was asked if he knew any other advance charms and answered that he could cast a corporeal Patronus – Gretel had been both shocked and impressed. Eventually however it reached an end when Evan answered that he spoke neither gobbledegook nor mermish.

"_Finite __Incantatem_. Well, that's it," she said with a slight smile, "Now, you just sit there and I'll calculate your results."

He sat back in his chair and waited for perhaps a minute before the witch declared she was done and handed him a piece of parchment.

"Your grading for each topic indicates that you could pass the prior year's exam with at least an Acceptable. Meaning, if you graded seven in Arithmancy, you are capable of passing the exam at the end of sixth year, qualifying you for seventh year classes."

Nodding in understanding, he turned his gaze to the page in his hand.

_Incoming Student Entry Level Testing_

_SUBJECT_ – _LEVEL_

_Transfiguration_ – _6_

_Charms_ – _6_

_Potions_ – _5_

_Defence Against the Dark Arts_ – _7_

_Herbology_ – _5_

_Care of Magical Creatures_ – _6_

_History of Magic_ – _5_

_Astronomy_ – _5_

_Arithmancy_ – _1_

_Ancient Runes_ – _1_

_Divination _– _4_

_Muggle Studies_ – _8_

_Flying_ – _8_

_Geography_ – _2_

_Languages_ – _1_

_Fine Arts_ – _1_

_Music_ – _1_

_Magical Construction_ – _1_

_Mind Magics_ – _1_

_Legal Studies_ – _2_

_Government_ – _2_

_Medimagic_ – _1_

_Blood Magic_ – _1_

Reading his results he found all the 'ones' a little depressing although not at all unexpected since he had never studied those subjects. He was quite proud to see he could qualify for seventh year DADA and that he had tested out of flying by getting a score of eight. He also received an eight for Muggle Studies but the questions Gretel had asked had been pitifully easy. He assumed the expectations for that particular subject were simply very low.

"So," he said, looking up, "I can get into fifth year then?"

"Most definitely. Apart from the subjects you have clearly not touched on, your level averages out to about mid fifth year as you had said."

"Brilliant," he smiled, glad that his enrolment was going according to plan.

After that it was a simple matter of Gretel filling in his scores on his enrolment form – he got to keep the parchment version of his results – and he was done. Ten minutes later he had said thank you and goodbye to Gretel, and portkeyed back to Potter Manor.

..ooOOoo..

It was the end of the day and ministry workers were converging on the atrium, in order to floo home.

"Gretel, how are you dear?" Julia greeted her younger friend and co-worker as they left their offices.

"Fine, and you? Had a good day?"

"Lovely day if a tad boring. I assume yours was the same?" she said then raised an eyebrow as the blonde snorted, "Or perhaps not."

"I enrolled a student in Hogwarts today," she explained vaguely.

"You enrolled several students as I recall," the hazel eyed witch replied dryly, "Now do get to the point."

"Well the point is, one of the students was Evan Potter."

"Yes, I believe I remember that one. From America wasn't he?"

"That's the one. The only thing is he's not just Evan Potter – he's Evan Potter, Head of the House of Potter," she announced dramatically and was rewarded with a gasp.

"No?" the older witch denied, "Surely not."

"Surely _so_. I performed the validation spell myself and that ring on his finger glowed just like it should."

"Really? But however did there come to be a Potter Head right now? I thought the Headship was supposed to go to Harry Potter, the boy-who-lived, when he was old enough."

"I wondered the same thing and I asked him. He told me that…"

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	23. Dealing with the Press

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Nothing to say about what's in this chapter so much as what 'isn't' in it. That being Dumbledore. In particular I wanted to write Dumbledore's reaction to the news and McGonagall's reaction to him having lied about where Harry was. Unfortunately, it just didn't fit into this chapter without sounding random and it'd be too short to have its own chapter so don't expect to read about it in chapter 24 either. I may end up doing another Dumbledore chapter covering his missed time or he may mention this time briefly in retrospect next time we see him. Don't know which. Anyway, I just figured writing this note would stop the million 'what about Dumbledore, what's he think' questions I would have gotten otherwise._

_Enjoy._

**Chapter 23 – Dealing with the Press**

– _Tue, 17/5/1988_ –

A pale man with white-blonde hair sat in his study, browsing one of the darker tomes in his collection and sipping idly at a glass of firewhiskey.

The room itself was opulently done, decorated in navy, black and silver with darkly polished woods. There were no windows, since all the walls of the room were lined with bookcases, filled with ancient looking tomes, scattered throughout with trinkets of questionably legality. A large, solid looking desk sat in the centre of the room with a tall, throne-like, wing-backed chair tucked behind it and two elegant, padded ones in dark brown leather set before it.

The blonde man, currently lounging indolently in the wing backed chair, looked up in curiosity as the door to the study opened to admit an aristocratic looking blonde woman. The lady gracefully crossed the room and lowered herself into a seat before his desk.

"Good evening love," the woman said gently.

"Narcissa. Good evening to you as well," he greeted her politely, "So, what brings you to my study this evening?"

"I need a reason to visit my husband?" she inquired coquettishly.

"Of course not," he said plainly and she sighed, realising that he had no intention of indulging her playful mood this evening.

"I had tea with the ladies at Parkinson Hall today."

"I was aware," was all he said and Narcissa had to resist the urge to roll her eyes; it simply would not be ladylike.

"I had a lovely time of course. The Parkinson's have redecorated their parlour. It's quite lovely really. The walls are peach and the carpets cream and the whole room is accented in gold. The highlight though is a particularly gorgeous crystal chandelier that they've acquired…"

As she continued talking, filling him in on all the latest news, she noticed his expression become pained and eyes glaze over and had to resist the urge to smirk. In her own little way she felt she'd gotten revenge on him for his stiff and unsociable attitude and for having rebuffed her teasing. As she droned on – being sure to sound interested in what she was saying – Lucius did his best to appear attentive if for no other reason than the fact that he would appear uncouth if he did otherwise. Finally, deciding that she had punished him enough, she decided to get to the point of her visit.

"You know, Jacinta Montague had the most interesting rumour to share," she told him.

"You don't mean gossip?" he asked dryly and she gave a falsely offended look.

"Well of course not," she objected, her blue eyes twinkling slightly, "Why, that you would even _think_ that ladies of our quality would stoop to something so tawdry as gossipmongering. We simply share and speculate on overheard rumours is all."

Lucius scoffed softly, "Very well then; what is this 'overheard and speculated upon rumour' that Lady Montague had to share?"

"Well," she leaned forward slightly in her chair, "Apparently there is a new Head of the House of Potter."

She leaned back again, satisfied to see the surprise flicker over his features before he schooled them into casual curiosity.

"A Potter Head again so soon? I was under the impression that Harry Potter was to inherit the title once he was old enough."

"Yes, as was I. There are a number of stories going around. Some say that he's James Potter come back to life. Someone had also heard that he was James Potter's lovechild," she told her husband and watched him raise a mocking eyebrow.

"I stand corrected. Such stories most certainly could not be considered as gossip."

"Oh hush," she said, "If you'll listen long enough I can tell you what the more popular theory is."

"Do tell."

"Well, most of the ladies who had heard the rumour had also heard that this new Potter patriarch is the son of James Potter's elder brother."

"The one who was believed to have fled the wizarding world to avoid a marriage contract? Adam Potter I believe was his name," he asked, his disapproval of the man's actions clear in the voice.

"The very one."

"I was sure the man was deceased."

"I suppose he must have had a son before he died then."

"Hmm," was all he said, as his thoughts raced, "I think I may just look into this mysterious Potter."

Narcissa just nodded and smiled politely, having expected as much. Snapping out of his thoughts, Lucius looked back up at his wife.

"Thank you for bringing this to my attention my dear."

"It was no trouble. After all, is it not my duty as your wife to keep you informed of such things?"

"But of course," he murmured and then there was a moment of silence

"Well then. With your leave, I believe I shall go and check in on Draco," she said, a genuine smile settling on her lips at the thought of her son.

"Of course," he said, distractedly waving in her direction.

Taking the gesture as one of dismissal, she rose elegantly to her feet and glided from the study.

..ooOOoo..

_Mr Martins_

_The rumours of a new Potter Head have recently come to my attention and needless to say I am intrigued. In particular, I am wondering whether this man has taken custody of our boy-who-lived. It would of course be the proper things for a Family Head to have done but all the same, I feel it is my civic duty to ensure the famous Harry Potter is in capable hands._

_If you could look into this development – perhaps check Ministry records – I would be most grateful._

_On a decidedly separate note, if I recall correctly you have recently come under the scrutiny of the __Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures because of the __Pogrebins that help to protect the outer forests of your estate. I humbly admit that I may have some small amount of sway with the __Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures and am sure I can put in a good word for you. It would be a terrible thing were your Pogrebins to be slated for disposal, especially considering the hefty fine that would follow, since it is common knowledge that your family has recently come into some financial troubles._

_Awaiting your reply,_

_Lord Lucius Malfoy._

_(Head of the House of Malfoy)_

..ooOOoo..

– _Fri, 20/5/1988_ –

_Lord Malfoy,_

_I have looked into the matter of your concern and discovered the following:_

_Gringotts, being required by the Goblin treaty of 1742 to provide confirmation and the identity of any Head of Family, have informed me that there is indeed a new Potter Head and that his name is Evan Adam Potter. When asked to explain Evan Potter's claim to the title and how long he had held it, the goblins were quick to point out that they were not required to disclose any further information._

_However, given the pure-blood naming traditions – meaning his second name was likely assigned after his father – one might assume that this new Potter Head is the son of Adam Potter, the elder brother of James Potter, believed to have fled the wizarding world to avoid a marriage contract._

_Next, I ventured to the Ministry's records department. Since popular rumour is that Evan Potter was identified as the Head of Potter whilst applying to Hogwarts, I decided to check both the adoptions records as well as the school applications._

_As expected, I discovered__ the school application of one Evan Adam Potter in the files. I have attached to this letter both a copy of his application form – which lists several personal details – as well as the boy's (apparently he is only sixteen) entry level testing results._

_Investigation of the adoption records shows that Evan Potter did indeed adopt the boy-who-lived. The papers are dated the seventh of February this year._

_From this, one may also assume that this boy has been the Head of Potter for almost three and a half months at the very least._

_I hope you find this information useful,_

_Marco Martins._

_P.S. Your assistance in the matter of the Pogrebins would be most appreciated. Thank you for the offer._

Setting down the letter, Lucius leaned back in his chair. Mr Martin had been most helpful indeed. He would have to remember the man next time he was in need of such assistance. The silly fool no doubt thought they were even now – his sway in the Pogrebin matter in exchange for the information on Evan Potter. He would learn better though when next he was called upon for his services. No one so easily escapes the influence of Lucius Malfoy once they had been lured in.

But that was all rather irrelevant at the moment. What he needed to do was consider his next course of action. He had tried his best, shortly after the Dark Lord's fall, to gain custody of Harry Potter and if it hadn't been for that meddlesome headmaster he was sure he would have succeeded. "He is with his family", "It is as his parents would have wanted", "He is where he can be safest", "Trust me" the old man had said and most of the wizarding world had acquiesced to his decision.

Ever since then Lucius had done his best to acquire the boy-who-lived through less 'direct' methods. But, no matter how hard he looked and no matter how many others he had helping in the search, the boy's location had remained elusive.

Really, the whole situation was unacceptable. He was no fool. He knew that his master was not gone for good. No, Voldemort was much too powerful for that. Why the very idea that the greatest wizard of their age should be destroyed by a mere half-blooded babe beggared belief. Added to that the little known fact that there had been no body found at the scene at Godric's Hollow – well, that fact practically screamed that there was more to the story, didn't it?

No, his master would eventually return, and when he did- when he did Lucius knew he would be displeased with him. He had sworn up and down to the courts that we was not a death eater; that he had never been a death eater; that he held no allegiance to the Dark Lord. He had claimed Imperius and greased enough palms to be declared innocent and escape Azkaban. But that didn't change the fact that he had publicly denied his lord. He knew when the Dark Lord returned he would have to beg and plead for forgiveness. He would explain that he could better serve his master's interests whilst free than whilst locked up. And it was true. That – he knew – was the only reason his master would spare him.

Still, there was a way that he could ensure his survival and perhaps even regain favour. That way was through the Potter boy. If he could, upon his lord's return, deliver to him the one responsible for his downfall – however temporary it may have been – he was sure to be praised.

And now, here was news that Harry Potter was finally out of hiding and hopefully out from under Dumbledore's thumb. There was the possibility of course that Evan Potter had taken custody of the boy-who-lived on Dumbledore's request. The fact that the headmaster had publicly denied the rumour of Harry Potter's presence in Diagon Alley – back at the end of March – suggested otherwise. The old man's request to the public on information about the sighting in order to 'prevent them from trying the same thing again' had sounded more than a little flimsy to him. He suspected it was more likely that the sighting had been true and Dumbledore – having in fact lost the boy-who-lived but not wanting any 'unsavory' sorts to realise and take advantage of the situation – had been hoping someone would report something that could help him to track the boy down.

Well, the secret was out now and if he had his way Dumbledore's fears were going to be realised. Not that he would ever label himself as 'unsavoury', but he certainly intended to take advantage of the situation. But how to go about it?

Simply kidnapping the boy was out of the question. Not because he had any moral objection to such a course of action – for of course he didn't – but rather because Evan Potter's school application form had indicated they were residing at Potter Manor. He was no fool. He knew that his chances of finding the ancestral Potter home were slim to none; the family had always kept it's location a closely guarded secret. Added to that the fact that its wards were rumoured to be tighter – though somewhat less malicious – than even Malfoy Manor's own and he knew he would need to get to the Potter child another way.

Resting his chin in his hand and tapping the fingers of the other against his desk, he pondered for a time what to do, before straightening up when an idea came to him. If he couldn't get to Harry Potter directly, he would have to get to him indirectly – and the best way to do that would be to publicly discredit this Evan Potter fellow. He would make the teen out to be young and ill trained and – most of all – unsuited to look after their young hero. Then, when the public rebelled and forced the Ministry to intervene, he would 'encourage' a few higher ranking Ministry officials that it would be best to have the boy-who-lived's custody rights overturned and granted to him – Lucius Malfoy – instead.

Yes, this was a most satisfactory plan. First things first though, he needed to contact one of those Daily Prophet reporters loyal to him. Withdrawing a spare sheet of parchment he dipped a quill in ink and began to compose his letter.

_Miss Polly Blackshaw,_

_I have recently come across some most disturbing information that I believe the public needs to be made aware of…_

..ooOOoo..

– _Mon, 23/5/1988_ –

_Uneducated Child Adopts Boy-Who-Lived_

_By Polly Blackshaw_

_It has recently been brought to this reporter's attention that the wizarding world's hero has been adopted by a wizard relative. Now whilst the knowledge that our own boy-who-lived is back among us would normally be cause for celebration, one must wonder where this mysterious relative has come from, considering that Harry Potter has in the past been reported as having no close magical family ..._

_... investigation has revealed that this 'Evan Potter' is woefully undereducated. Recently applying to enter Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the coming term, his entry level testing results have been found to feature almost ten 'one' scores (the worst grade possible). Just what kind of uneducated child is now responsible for our hero's wellbeing? ..._

_... well respected public figure Lucius Malfoy had this to say, "I think it's reprehensible that young Harry Potter has been cast into such a precarious situation. Like any other responsible citizen, I'm highly concerned for our hero. No one really knows much about this Evan Potter character and what little we do is far from reassuring." ..._

..ooOOoo..

– _Sun, 29/5/1988_ –

It was Sunday afternoon and Evan, Remus and Alice were seated in the parlour of Potter Manor, trying to decide what to do about the Potter teen's most recent troubles. For a week now, the papers had been printing articles about the mysterious new Potter Head who had taken custody of the-boy-who-lived. Unfortunately for Evan, the theme of the articles had been decidedly unfavourable towards him.

"It's got to the stage where the elves have to redirect my mail to a sorting room."

"That many complaints dear?" Alice asked sympathetically but Evan shook his head.

"Howlers actually," Remus explained and her eye widened before narrowing.

"Well, this has just gone too far. We need to put a stop to it somehow."

"I wish you luck with that," Evan said morosely, "If my past experiences with the press are anything to go by you'll need it."

"You've had experience with the press before?" Lupin asked in confusion and the teen's mouth opened and closed a few times before he thought of a suitable response.

"Muggle press. It was, er- I'd really rather not talk about it," he said and the werewolf nodded.

There was a moment of silence as the two adult magicians stared at him with scrutiny. Moony's expression, he noted, contained curiosity more than anything else whilst Alice's was for some reason laced with a sort of exasperated amusement.

"Well," Alice spoke, breaking the silence, "Difficult or not we have to do something. Malfoy's game is fairly obvious isn't it?"

"He wants Harry."

"Exactly dear. And I don't know about you but there's no way I'm letting that man have any sort of power over him."

Remus nodded, "I don't know if you've heard much about him since arriving in England but the man was tried as a Death Eater after You-Know-Who's fall. He got of by pleading Imperius."

"Codswallop, if you ask me," Alice muttered, "We all knew he was guilty, all of us in the Auror ranks. Unfortunately he was rich enough to buy his way out of trouble. That man belongs in Azkaban – he's one of the worst sort," she said firmly and Remus nodded in agreement.

"The question is what do we do?" Evan said

"We could try playing his game against him," Moony suggested and at the confused looks clarified, "The press. We could try publicly countering him that way."

"It'd be not good," Alice said with an annoyed sigh, "The man has half that blasted newspaper in his pocket. Chances are anything we said would only be turned around against us."

The two continued throwing ideas back and forth, not noticing that their third had fallen silent. Evan quietly considered the idea that Remus's comment had given him. It was risky of course. For one thing, this was an entirely different dimension and for another he had gone back in time. There was always the chance that his information would prove faulty here. And even if it didn't, the thought of going through with his plan made him feel terribly Slytherin. Still, it seemed like his best bet. Looking up, he found the other two staring at him, having finally noticed he wasn't joining in the conversation.

"I have an idea," he told them.

"What kind of idea Evan?" Remus asked.

"Well, I happen to know of this reporter. Her name's Rita Skeeter. Do you know of her?"

"Skeeter?" Alice exclaimed, "Evan dear, the last thing you want to do is go anywhere near _that_ woman. Whether she's on Lucius's Malfoy's payroll or not is irrelevant – anyone who has read her articles can tell that she simply lives to destroy reputations."

"Alice is right," Remus added and the woman smiled, thankful for the support, "I've not been back in the wizarding world all that long and even I've already figured that out."

"I know, I know. And normally I'd agree with you both. The thing is though, I happen to have certain information about her that I don't think she would want getting out."

The other two gaped at him and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"You want to blackmail the woman?" Alice exclaimed disapprovingly as Remus's expression changed into a smirk.

"How very Slytherin of you Evan," he said and Evan wasn't sure whether to grin or grimace.

"Yes, I want to blackmail her. Don't get me wrong, normally I wouldn't even consider something like this but we're talking about keeping Harry away from Malfoy," he defended and watched Alice deflate.

"Of course dear, you're right. We are talking about Harry's wellbeing here."

"So, what is this information you have?" Remus asked.

"Yes. We need to be sure it's enough to get her cooperation."

"I know this'll sound a little hypocritical given that my uncle was one too," he began and noticed Remus's eyes widen in understanding, "And Moony's already figured it out."

"What, what is it?"

"She's an unregistered animagus, isn't she?" the werewolf guessed and Evan grinned and nodded.

"Well, that is a rather compelling piece of information to have," Alice conceded, "Quite a hefty fine if she were reported."

"Not only that, she uses her form to spy on people for her articles."

"Just what is her form that she could go so unnoticed," Remus asked curiously.

"She's a beetle."

"Oh, that would be useful in her line of work wouldn't it?"

"Well, I think this is our best idea," Alice said determinedly, "What say you write the woman and arrange a meeting for us all, hmm? It will need to be in the afternoon since I will of course be working during most of the day. Well, I suppose we could simply wait for the weekend but I really don't think we should leave it so lo-"

"Actually," Evan interrupted the woman before she got any further into her plans, "I think it would be best if I go alone."

"Oh, I'm not sure that's a terribly good idea. I'm certain you're capable of handling the situation on your own Evan, but Skeeter is supposed to be an insidious woman. It would really be better to have support," she said but he refused to be swayed.

"Why don't you want us to come," Remus asked, ever the mediator.

"It's just that if you came it's sure to get out that you both know me."

"And?"

"And, if they knew that, people would probably try to use you both – not to mention Neville - to try and get to Harry. Especially Dumbledore and we all know the kind of lengths that man is willing to go through to get what he wants," he said and they all shivered.

"Still, people are bound to find out about our association eventually."

"He's right dear."

"I know, just- well it can't hurt to put it off as long as possible can it?"

In the end he managed to convince the other two to let him go alone. Soon after, Alice collected Neville and both headed home whilst Moony and Harry decided to settle down for a game of chess – Remus had been teaching the boy to play recently. Evan decided to take the opportunity to pen a few important letters.

_Account Manager Jarnack,_

_No doubt you've noticed the bad press I've been receiving lately. My friends and I discussed it and came to the decision that I would approach Rita Skeeter to write a counter story. If you recall, I met the woman back 'home' and happen to know a certain secret of hers. Hopefully that secret applies here as well since I intend to use that to make sure she writes the article in my favour._

_The reason I'm writing is that I need a safe, secure place for my meeting with her. I was wondering if Gringotts has any meeting rooms that I could borrow. I would simply use one at the Leaky Cauldron but given my fame at the moment, I don't want to take the risk that our conversation be overheard and I end up mobbed by angry witches and wizards – I'm really not the public's most popular person at the moment._

_Hoping you can help,_

_Evan Potter._

..ooOOoo..

_Mr Potter,_

_I have indeed noticed your presence in the press lately._

_Gringotts meeting room B can be available to you tomorrow from nine o'clock till ten thirty for a small fee. If this meets your approval the cost will be withdrawn from your vault._

_Account Manager Jarnack._

..ooOOoo..

_Jarnack,_

_That'll be fine._

_Thanks,_

_Evan._

..ooOOoo..

_Reporter Rita Skeeter,_

_My name is Evan Adam Potter. I'm sure you are familiar with that name, given that it seems to be featuring on nearly every Daily Prophet lately._

_If you are interested in an exclusive interview to hear my story, then please meet me tomorrow at Gringotts at nine o'clock. Simply ask to be escorted to meeting room B._

_Hope to see you then,_

_Evan Adam Potter._

..ooOOoo..

– _Mon, 30/5/1988_ –

Evan dressed that morning with particular care, choosing to wear a white shirt, black pants and an emerald green over robe, paired with his thin, silver glasses and a pair of brown dress shoes. Looking at himself in the mirror and trying futilely to pat down his hair – which, despite having grown out to just below his jaw, insisted on looking messy – he took in his overall appearance and found himself thankful he no longer had to dress in Dudley's old hand-me-downs. Blackmailed or not, he didn't want to even consider what Rita Skeeter might have thought had he turned up looking so scruffy.

Sighing in frustration at his hair, he decided that now that it had a little length he might try pulling it back. Calling for Tilly, the elf had soon provided him with a leather hair tie and even insisted upon putting it in for him. A few moments later she was done and he took in the effect. The short ponytail gathered at the nape of his neck, and a few strands of hair at the front – too short to be tied back – escaped to frame his face. With a smile, he nodded in satisfaction. Pleased that her master approved Tilly grinned and popped away.

Deciding that it was time he got going, he left the bathroom and exited his quarters. Pausing only at Harry's door to lean his head in and say goodbye, he made his way towards the entrance hall. Arriving in the room he headed over to the fireplace and Gully popped into the room, holding the urn of floo powder out towards him. Giving the elf a nod of thanks he took a pinch of the powder and threw it into the flames before stepping in.

"Diagon Alley!"

..ooOOoo..

Pausing to touch up her makeup, Rita Skeeter smacked her bright red lips and grinned in satisfaction before returning her makeup-mirror and lipstick to her crocodile-skin handbag and exiting her office at the Daily Prophet, her photographer Bozo trailing behind her.

A short walk later they ascended the stairs into Gringotts bank and she approached the nearest available goblin, giving it a flattering smile.

"Yes?" the creature grumbled.

"Hello, I'm Rita Skeeter and I have an appointment in meeting room B."

The goblin gave her the usual annoying stare before checking something in one of his books and nodding.

"Tarak!" he called and another, younger looking goblin came forward.

"She needs to go to meeting room B."

"Right, follow me," Tarak said, leading her from the room.

"But of course, lead the way," she smiled before turning to her photographer, "You wait out here Bozo. I'll collect you once the interview is over and I'm ready for the pictures."

As soon as both goblins had turned away she let her smile slip and allowed her lips to curl a little in distaste. They really were disgusting creatures.

Following her goblin guide, she quickly found herself outside a door labelled 'Meeting Room B' and then just as quickly alone, as the goblin abandoned her and ambled back to his post. Her lip curled even more before she wiped the expression off. This interview was a golden opportunity and she needed to stay on this Evan Potter's good side for long enough to get enough dirt on him.

Checking her purse once to ensure she had sufficient parchment and her faithful Quick Quotes Quill, she pasted her most ingratiating smile on her face and opened the door.

As she stepped into the room, its lone occupant looked up at her. She pursed her lips a little as she took in his appearance. Rather small and slender, petite even. Gorgeous emerald green eyes. Black hair, shoulder length or a bit shorter with an appealing messiness about it, even tied back. His clothes weren't overly expensive but they were nice enough; the green robe in particular complimented his eyes quite nicely. Overall she was disappointed to find that he was fairly attractive. A pity that – she'd just have to stick to disparaging his character since his looks were easily passable.

"Rita Skeeter?" the boy spoke.

Her contemplations interrupted, she ratcheted her smile up yet another notch and quickly approached the teen, taking one of his hands in the both of hers and shaking it enthusiastically.

"And you must be the mysterious Evan Potter. How delightful to meet you."

"Er, you too," he said, extracting his hand.

Wanting to keep him off balance, she quickly, took a seat and withdrew some parchment and her trusty quill from her handbag.

"Firstly, thank you so much for contacting me for this interview. It's simply an honour," licking the tip of her quill to get it started she set it on her parchment, ready to write, "So tell me Evan- can I call you Evan?"

"I suppose, I just-"

"Evan, what exactly prompted you to adopt our famous boy-who-lived and just what previous experience do you have in child raising?" noticing her interviewee's distinctly displeased expression she realised he was reading the acid green quill's rather 'artistic' interpretation of events, "Oh, don't worry about the quill Evan. Just focus on me, hmm?"

She laid a hand on his arm and leaned in closer, smiling a slightly flirtatious smile. Unfortunately her efforts didn't seem to be working as the Potter boy leaned back, seeming to regain his equilibrium for the first time since she had entered the room. Biting back a curse, she opened her mouth to say something but he began speaking first.

"Miss Skeeter," he began, pulling his arm from her grasp, "I believe we need to speak of something important before we begin the interview."

"Oh," she asked, tinging her voice with innocent curiosity, "And what is that."

"Well, I need to explain to you how I want you to spin this article."

"Do you indeed?" she scoffed in her head at the thought but outwardly remained serene, "Very well then. Do tell."

"I also need to explain _why_ I expect you to do the article how I say. Now I don't mean to _bug_ you about it but it really _bugs_ me the way that the Daily Prophet seems so set against me lately. You know what I mean?"

Her smile faltered for a brief moment before she shook off her worry. Surely she was just imagining things.

"Of course Evan, of course. Those reporters _can_ be vicious at times, can't they?"

"Absolutely. Sometimes I just want to tell them to _bug_ger off. They can be so annoying, you know – like bugs. Some reporters are just like bugs or insects or beetles or something. I'm sure you know what I mean," the boy said, a smirk now on his face.

For her part, Rita's smile had faded completely and her face had paled a little.

"I- I don't know what to say. I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she responded, annoyed to hear her voice wavering a little.

"Really?"

"Really."

"Well, in that case," he went to rise, "I suppose I'll just have to talk to someone else about this _bug_ problem. I'm sure the Auror department would know what to say about it."

"Wait!" she exclaimed, jumping from her seat and grabbing his arm to keep him from leaving.

She cursed the boy as he turned back to look at her, her mind racing trying to figure out how he had known and what she should do now that he did.

"So, you do know what I mean after all?"

"I- I might," she admitted and he nodded, taking a seat and gesturing for her to do the same.

"I'm glad," he said with a grin and she glared at him.

"How do you know and what do you want?"

"How I know isn't important. What I want is for you to write this article the way I want it to be written. I want to do something about all the crap they've been writing about me lately."

"You want me to have the public adoring you rather than reviling you," she said and was surprised to see him grimace a bit.

"I'd prefer if they thought nothing of me at all actually, but it's a bit late for that," he sighed before giving her a falsely sympathetic look, "I know this will be hard for you – boosting someone's reputation rather than destroying it. Do you think you will be able to manage?"

She just glared, "What's to stop me from simply going to the Ministry right now and registering myself?"

"Well for one, you wouldn't be able to eavesdrop on conversations anywhere near as easily anymore, so your ability as a reporter would be affected," at her wince he added, "And secondly- secondly I'll agree that whenever I need to be interviewed for an article in the future I'll come to you."

She considered his offer. If he pressed it she would agree. It would be a terrible inconvenience to register her form and as the guardian of the boy-who-lived he was sure to feature in interview-worthy news in the future at some stage or another. Still, she thought she could get more from him.

"Harry Potter," she said, looking determined.

"What about Harry?" he looked cautious.

"If you – as his legal guardian – can ensure he also come to me for all future interviews then I'll agree."

He frowned and shook his head, "I can't guarantee that. It's his choice."

"Well, you could at least 'suggest' the possibility to him," she bargained and almost cheered aloud as his expression shifted from firm to considering.

"Okay," he nodded finally, "No promises as far as Harry goes but I will recommend you to him."

"Wonderfu-"

"_And_ warn him about you at the same time," he added and she pouted but nodded all the same.

"All right then, I agree to your terms. Now, let's get started."

..ooOOoo..

Approximately an hour later, after calling her photographer in to take a few pictures, Rita Skeeter bid him goodbye and left the room. As soon as the door clicked shut Evan slumped down in his seat and gave a relieved sigh. He was _so_ glad that was finally over. He felt dirty somehow just from spending so much time in that phoney woman's company, not to speak of the fact that he had needed to act civilly towards her. Still, the blackmailing part had been fun. He smiled at the thought. This may not be the same Rita Skeeter who had made his life hell in the past but it was still particularly satisfying to get one over her nonetheless. All there was left to do now was to wait for tomorrow's paper and see what happened.

..ooOOoo..

– _Thu, 2/6/1988_ –

For four days now, the tide of public opinion had been turning and it had all started Monday morning, with the deliveries of the Daily Prophet. Rita Skeeter had been surprisingly true to her word in the tone of her reporting. Evan did of course have blackmail material ensuring her compliance but she was such a horrid woman that he had half expected her to renege on the deal anyway.

At the meeting on Sunday, he had explained his history to Skeeter – the false one of course. The woman had immediately decided the best course of action was to play the sympathy card and, whilst he found the idea distasteful, it had sounded like the best way to go about it.

She had made him out to be a 'poor little orphan boy' who had led a difficult life. She had used that to draw parallels between himself and Harry, claiming dramatically that they were 'kindred spirits' – both having lost their parents at an early age and being forced to live in the muggle world. She declared that this made Evan the best possible choice of guardian for the boy since few others could be so well equipped to understand Harry's situation.

She had then chided the public for having questioned his abilities, pointing out the truth of the entry level testing results – that it was common for even Hogwarts graduates to have so many ones, since the school simply didn't offer all subjects. She had publicly commended him for not only being determined enough to get an education at all, but also for doing so well considering – according to his story – he had been raised by a squib and never had any formal training. His seven in DADA had also been pointed out, as though it was proof that the-boy-who lived must be in safe and capable hands.

The public had eaten it up.

..ooOOoo..

Lucius Malfoy threw down his newspaper with a growl of annoyance and pushed back from the table.

"Aren't you going to finish breakfast father?" little Draco asked, not realising the man was not in a mood to be questioned.

"Not now Draco dear," Narcissa quickly intervened, "I'm sure your father simply has important business to attend to."

"Indeed I do," he said, pushing his chair it, taking back the newspaper and sketching a stiff bow, "Narcissa, if you will excuse me."

Narcissa nodded and Draco waved, his smile fading slightly as his father simply ignored him and left the room.

Making his way towards his study with long, angry strides, he ignored the curious portraits that watched him pass, determined to reach his destination. Finally arriving at the door he threw it open, seated himself behind his desk, then waved his wand, locking and warding the room. He needed privacy for a moment.

Setting the Daily Prophet down in front of him, he leaned back in his chair and raised his hands to his temples, easing the slight headache that had taken up residence there a short time ago. This whole situation was really quite unacceptable. Somehow that Potter brat – the elder one that is – had managed to thwart his efforts by turning the Daily Prophet around to his favour. The question was how.

He knew he had the backing of at least a quarter of the reporters who worked there. After the article on Monday, he had contacted each and every one of them, asking them to support his case. And they had. But somehow it hadn't been enough.

Leaning over and opening his drawer, he withdrew the last few days' copies of the newspaper and laid them all side by side on his desk. Taking a few moments he reread the articles that had caused his most recent ire, trying to figure out how his plan had gone so awry. He was just about to put the papers away again in frustration when a certain detail caught his eye.

Monday's edition:

_Fact not Fiction – the Real Story of Evan Potter_

_By Rita Skeeter_

Tuesday's edition:

_Evan Potter – How he Has Triumphed Against Adversity_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_The-Boy-Who-Lived is Back Among Us - Evan Potter to Thank_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Lord Potter Refuses to Neglect Familial Duty_

_By Rita Skeeter_

Wednesday's edition.

_Harry Potter Happy With New Home_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Evan Potter Speaks – Family Comes First_

_By Rita Skeeter_

_Potter Scores an Eight – Is he a Quidditch Prodigy?_

_By Rita Skeeter_

His expression now thoughtful, he considered what this could mean. It appeared that this woman – this Rita Skeeter – had been the one to head the pro-Evan Potter campaign. He had heard of her before of course – the reporter was well known for her scathing articles and her ability to ruin reputations – and had actually been meaning to get in touch with her for some years now, in order to win her favour. Unfortunately it seemed he had procrastinated far too long on that decision for now none other than Evan Potter seemed to have captured her positive regard. It was quite bothersome.

Still, he was sure he could bring her around, get her to see his side of things. He was Lucius Malfoy after all. Yes, that's what he would do. He would invite her to have tea with him this afternoon. Perhaps at that new restaurant, 'The Black Phoenix'. It was cosy yet chic and most of all, quite expensive. It should give the desired impression. He just needed to ensure a reservation – not that he would have any trouble there – and then send Miss Skeeter an invitation.

..ooOOoo..

"You're quite the influential writer Miss Skeeter," he complimented, taking a sip of his tea.

"So nice of you to say so Lord Malfoy."

"Please, there's no need to be so formal. Call me Lucius."

"Lucius, of course and you must call me Rita."

"Rita then. Is your meal to your liking?"

"Oh, it's delightful. This is quite the exclusive restaurant Lucius. I'm impressed you managed to get reservations at such late notice," she commented and he pasted a humble expression on his face.

"It wasn't too terrible difficult. The Malfoy name does carry some little weight after all,"

She smiled widely, "I think perhaps you're being a tad modest."

"Mayhap," he allowed.

There was a companionable silence for a while until Rita finished off the last of her meal. She then dabbed her mouth delicately with the napkin before replacing it and leaning forwards slightly in her seat, fixing him with a considering expression. To business then, he thought to himself and set his cutlery down.

"I must admit to a bit of curiosity Lucius," she said in a familiar manner.

"Oh?"

"Yes. I'm wondering just why you invited me to tea today."

"Well, I had thought that perhaps you and I might be able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement of sorts," he explained vaguely and she raised one thin, pencilled eyebrow and lowered her bejewelled spectacles to stare at him over the top of them.

"Oh really?" she asked with a disarming smile, "And how Lucius dear, might you be able to benefit me?"

"As I commented earlier, you are quite the influential reporter. Unfortunately, you're not exactly one of the upper class, are you?" her expression soured slightly and he hurried to explain, "I mean no offence of course. I merely wished to highlight that the higher society has been – for the most part – beyond your journalistic reach thus far."

He had to hide a satisfied grin as he saw her eyes light up.

"You do make an apt point. Perhaps if someone already of the upper class would be willing to introduce me to the circles…"

"My thoughts exactly Rita."

"Was there anyone in particular you had in mind?" she asked with false disinterest.

"I would be more than happy to escort you to a few events. I'm sure my wife Narcissa would not mind."

Her grin grew quite wide, "Introduced to the influential circles as a favoured of _the_ Lord Malfoy. You do realise how much such an offer is worth do you not?"

"I have some idea."

"So," her expression grew shrewd, "What would you want in return?"

"Rita, so blunt," he chided gently.

"Sometimes it's best to get straight to the point."

"True, true," he agreed and there was silence for a moment before he spoke again, "I have been keeping up with your most recent writings of course."

"You have?"

"Yes. They are on the subject of Lord Potter I believe," he said and was surprised to see a look of worry flicker across her features, "One has to wonder about the young man."

"Oh yes. Evan. A dear boy, I assure you."

"Hmm, perhaps, perhaps. Still, I'm sure you can understand my concern."

"Mmm," she hummed noncommittally, frowning slightly, "Of course that's understandable. But, as I said, he's really a good sort."

"That does seem to be popular opinion. Still I think the newspapers have been a little blithe recently. It's gotten to the stage where most people aren't worried for young Harry Potter at all. Now what I was thinking was that perhaps you could help me in making the public – how should I put it – 'aware', once more of the possible dangers this Evan Potter may pose."

He watched in curiosity as the woman before him fidgeted with her napkin, looking distinctly uncomfortable. She nibbled on her lower lip before straightening and trying to look resolute.

"I'm afraid Lucius, that I won't be able to help with this particular problem. I'm quite confident that there is no need to be worrying over Evan's intentions. He's a darling, really," she attempted a smile, "Of course, if ever you should find yourself in need of a favour again, perhaps we can discuss that mutually beneficial arrangement once again."

"Maybe. But then, perhaps the offer will not come around a second time," he watched her deflate then tried another tact, "You know Rita, I am quite the well-off wizard."

"Well of course. The wealth of the Malfoy family is well known."

"Are you so certain I cannot persuade you then?"

He watched as she practically squirmed in her seat. Her hands before her were clasped in fists so tight that her knuckles had turned white and her forehead was creased in a frown. After a moment she took a breath and forced herself to relax. He watched her eagerly, sure that he had finally made her an offer she couldn't refuse. Then she did what he least expected.

"I'm afraid not."

She refused.

Several minutes later he was left sitting alone at his table, sipping his tea. After refusing his final offer, Miss Skeeter had thanked him for the meal and taken her leave, leaving him to ponder their strange conversation.

I just didn't make sense. He had seen the eagerness in her eyes when he offered to escort her to a few of the more exclusive wizarding events, not to mention the greed that had been there when he had subtly offered her his financial support. And yet still she refused. Why? Well, there was one obvious possibility but it seemed untenable. Could this Evan Potter have something over her?

The Potter Family had always been reputed for their solid loyalty to the light and their painfully goody-goody attitudes. The very though that this Potter was- well, 'blackmailing' the woman was almost beyond belief. But, try as he might he could come to no other conclusion. He wondered just what the boy knew that was incriminating enough to convince the reporter to reject such a generous offer.

He sighed and took another sip of his tea, draining the cup. His surprise and curiosity aside, this remained a complication to his plans. If Rita Skeeter was truly as influential in media circles as he suspected, he may have to abandon his plans. No, not abandon; that implied that he was giving up – that he had lost – and a Malfoy does neither of those things. No, what he would do is 'reconsider' his plans.

He decided to simply leave the Potter Head be and give up on influencing the press against him; at least for now. But come September the boy would be attending Hogwarts and that opened up a plethora of opportunities. With the assistance of a few of his student contacts he was sure he would be able to better asses the boy and decide on a more appropriate course of action. Somehow, sooner or later, he would use him to get to Harry Potter.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	24. Dumbledore’s Reactions

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I know! I specifically said last chapter in the author notes that I didn't intend to cover Dumbledore and McGonagall's reaction because it would be too short. So, I lied I guess – only not about the abysmal length. Hope you enjoy all the same._

**Chapter 24 – Dumbledore's Reactions**

– _Mon, 23/5/1988_ –

Albus Dumbledore sat at the head table, looking out over the students in the great hall. He gave an amused smile, and twinkled his eyes as half the Slytherin table suddenly sprouted identical noses, all undeniably reminiscent of the one usually found upon the face of their head of house.

"Really," McGonagall tutted disapprovingly.

He watched from the corner of his eyes as the laughter of the hall drew Severus's attention away from his argument with Rolanda and the man's complexion paled in anger. Of course, given that the man was rather sallow coloured to begin with, the shade he had now turned was particularly alarming. Not to mention the two rather unflattering spots of colour now highlighting his cheeks. If he wasn't sure the man would bite his head off for his concern, he would have suggested he go to the hospital wing. Fortunately – for his entertainment's sake if nothing else – his resident Quidditch coach had no such hesitation.

"Why Snapey, you look almost like a clown, what with that pale face and those rosy cheeks. Or have you perhaps been thinking some rather randy thoughts? Is that why you're blushing?" Rolanda nettled him, "Tsk, tsk! You should now by now that the students are off limits young man."

Dumbledore watched as his potions master clenched his hands in white-knuckled fists and growled at her. The woman only laughed in his face. He decided it was time to intervene.

"Now, now Rolanda. That's quite enough," he chided her with a disappointed expression and she rolled her eyes and finally let the angered professor be.

Severus meanwhile calmed down a little, his fists unclenching and his face regaining some of its usual colour. The younger man threw him the briefest of thankful glances – quite a display for the usually ungrateful man. Dumbledore simply smiled back a cheerful smile whilst inwardly he was feeling quite satisfied. The boy was really terribly easy to control. Just show him a bit of kindness – stick up for him against his tormentors – and he was eternally grateful.

"Now Severus, I believe you have some students to see to," he reminded him gently and watched his expression darken somewhat once again as he looked back at his young snakes.

"When I find out who did this," he grumbled to himself as he stalked off toward them, obviously intending to return his students back to normal.

Albus himself merely smiled, his eyes twinkling all the brighter. He knew who the culprits were of course. A pair of seventh year Gryffindors had been watching the Slytherin table avidly since the start of dessert and they had been a little too smug when the prank happened to not have been guilty.

He wasn't going to tell Severus that though. Personally he thought the whole thing quite amusing and didn't want to see the culprits punished. It was only on the Slytherins after all. Sadly the majority of them were destined for dark paths and so it was understandable that his light Gryffindors should feel the need to punish them. In fact, he may just have to corner the pair sometime soon and casually compliment them on their spell work. Maybe even award a few points. Yes, that would keep them on the right track.

Turning his gaze away from the Slytherin table where their head of house had already managed to return half of those affected to their usual appearance, he looked up to see the flock of owls enter the Great Hall to deliver the morning mail.

As students and staff alike began reading their morning paper a rumbling of hushed conversation filled the hall and his transfiguration professor, seated to his left as usual, gasped aloud. With an uneasy sense of déjà vu he turned to look at the stately woman.

"Problem Minerva?" he asked, thinking – not for the first time – that he ought to make an exception for the Daily Prophet in his mail wards.

The woman, her lips pursed in displeasure, merely handed him the newspaper. Ignoring the various curious glances thrown his way he looked down at the paper.

_Uneducated Child Adopts Boy-Who-Lived_

_By Polly Blackshaw_

As he scanned the article he frowned in worry. This was the very last thing he needed. Somehow, someone had discovered the fact that Harry Potter was no longer with his muggle relatives. He briefly wondered who and how before getting to the section with Lucius Malfoy's comments. He immediately knew the devious man must be in some way behind this.

"Well?" a snappish voice interrupted his thoughts, "Would you care to explain, Headmaster, how it is that Harry Potter has been adopted when I quite clearly remember you assuring me not too long ago that he was still with the muggles?"

Automatically adopting a slightly wounded look at her accusing tone, his mind rapidly considered how he should respond. He could deny having had any knowledge of the boy-who-lived's change in location but most would be disbelieving – one of the few drawbacks of presenting an aura of omniscience. However, if he admitted to knowing then he would surely come under fire for leaving the boy with an obviously unfit guardian – if 'uneducated child' was really an accurate description. He supposed he could admit to having known and assure Minerva at the same time that the newspapers were misinformed – that this Evan Potter was really a competent guardian after all. Yes, that seemed the best course of action. After all, if the newspapers kept going on this way then the Ministry would eventually step in – to assuage the public if nothing else – which may lead to a trial of some description. Such a thing, he already knew, would be disastrous for him. He couldn't risk the Potter will getting out. Decided, he let his wounded look fade into one of weariness.

"Alas, I had hoped to keep this knowledge quiet for a while longer."

"You mean you knew?" she asked him harshly, "You knew that such a person had taken guardianship of Harry?"

"Why Minerva," he said, lowering his spectacles to shoot her a disapproving expression over the top of them, "Surely you know better than to believe everything you read? I can assure you that Evan Potter is a most capable guardian for young Harry."

He could tell that his chiding had her slightly repentant, but the woman persisted nonetheless.

"Then you lied Albus, when you denied the sighting in Diagon Alley those months ago," she accused disapprovingly.

"I was merely trying to do what was best for Harry," he dissembled, "I personally saw to Evan Potter's adoption of him but asked them to keep it quiet. It was safer that no one knew he had left his muggle relatives' home."

The transfiguration professor's lips thinned and her eyes narrowed. He stared right back at her, doing his best to look saddened yet firm. Eventually she looked away and sighed.

"Oh very well," she muttered then gave him a sharp look, "But for the record Headmaster, I do _not_ appreciate being misled."

"Of course," he understandingly agreed.

With a nod, she turned back to her meal and he sighed in relief. Turning back to his own breakfast, his eyes glanced about the hall. He noticed not only that Severus was almost finished reverting the Slytherins back to normal, but also that much of the staff and students had been eavesdropping on his and Minerva's conversation. He was not at all worried since he knew it would benefit him. Word would spread of his knowledge and supposed support of the boy-who-lived's new living circumstances and hopefully, the Daily Prophet would back down.

..ooOOoo..

– _Mon, 30/5/1988_ –

Wanting to catch up on his paperwork and correspondence, Albus had decided to skip breakfast in the great hall that morning and instead had the house-elves send something up to him in his office so that he still had something to eat.

Signing and then sealing his latest letter to Minister Fudge, he looked up as several owls flew into the room, dropping their mail off on a desk he had dedicated for that purpose. Noticing the Daily Prophet, he quickly picked it up. Despite his hopes, the Evan Potter smear campaign had continued all of last week. It was getting to the stage where he was considering making a public statement, in order to calm the public. Sighing and shaking his head, he shook open the publication and stared at surprise at the headline.

_Fact not Fiction – the Real Story of Evan Potter_

_By Rita Skeeter_

Reading quickly through the article, he allowed himself a rather silly whoop of happiness. Finally, things seemed to be going his way. If he was correct – and rare was the occasion that he wasn't – then this article marked the end of the maligning of Evan Potter. He felt relieved knowing the Ministry was now unlikely to interfere. Once again he was safe and his machinations would remain hidden.

That was not his only reason for rejoicing though. This article also meant that he finally had a lead in his search for Harry Potter – Rita Skeeter. The reporter had obviously been in contact with his guardian – the troublesome Evan Potter – in order to have interviewed him. Hopefully she would be able to help him finally locate the boy-who-lived.

Quickly riffling about his rather messy desk, he located a self-inking quill and a spare sheet of parchment and began writing.

_Miss Skeeter,_

_I have just a few minutes ago finished reading your article in today's Daily Prophet. I must admit that I have a few questions in regard to your interview with one Evan Potter._

_If you feel able to help sate an old man's curiosity, I would welcome you to have a private brunch with me today. Let's say around ten-ish?_

_To save you the long walk up from Hogsmeade village, feel free to Floo directly to my office. The address is 'Hogwarts, Headmaster's office'._

_Hoping to see you soon,_

_Albus Dumbledore._

_(Headmaster Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Order of Merlin__, First __Class__, Grand Sorc., Chf. __Warlock__Supreme Mugwump__, International Confed. of Wizards)_

He had hesitated at adding the last part before deciding to do so. Reporters _were_, after all, always more likely to be of assistance to those with fancy titles than to those without. He was sure Miss Skeeter was no different.

And, sure enough, little more than an hour after sending off his missive, the woman replied.

_Headmaster Dumbledore,_

_Thank you so much for the invitation. I would be simply delighted to have brunch with you this morning._

_I will see you at ten o'clock._

_Reporter,_

_Rita Skeeter._

..ooOOoo..

The fire in his hearth flashed green and moments later a woman with mauve robes and bejewelled spectacles stepped gracefully out of his fireplace.

"Rita!" Dumbledore called cheerfully, standing and approaching the woman.

"Headmaster," she responded with a wide, red-lipped smile, "Lovely to see you again."

"And you. Why I haven't really seen you for nearly twenty years. That would have been the day of your graduations ceremony. You were Slytherin class of sixty-nine if I recall correctly."

"You have a very good memory Headmaster."

"Oh please, you haven't been a student of Hogwarts for a great many years – call me Albus. Now, what say we take a seat? It seems the elves have taken advantage of our distraction to send up brunch."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea Albus."

Together both took a seat, helping themselves to food and drink and began talking of inconsequential things.

"You've made quite the mark as a reporter. I've noticed your articles in the newspapers quite frequently."

"I've been fortunate," she responded with an affectedly modest smile.

"Quite the danger to reputations from what I hear," he observed with a twinkle in his eye and she grinned unrepentantly.

"I merely give the public what they want to hear."

"Speaking of," he became serious, "You recently interviewed Evan Potter I believe."

"That's correct."

"I was wondering if you knew where he and young Harry are staying?" he asked plainly and her expression turned surprised then speculative.

"I was under the impression you already knew Albus, being that you supposedly arranged the adoption."

"No, I did not," he told her, "And it is imperative that I find Harry and return him to his muggle relatives."

The woman stared at him blinking in surprise before regaining control of herself.

"Well, you _are_ being revealing this morning," she murmured.

He said nothing, just continued staring at her. She considered whether to answer his question, recalling her conversation with the Potter Head and the teen's reference to 'bug problems'. After thinking on it, she realised she had promised him no true loyalty – only that she would report as his wished on articles affecting him. Perhaps she could take this opportunity to get a little payback in. Yes, she would tell the headmaster all she knew.

Dumbledore meanwhile, was doing more than staring at her. Little did she know but the elderly wizard was employing his Legilimency talents and watching her recollection of her conversation with Lord Potter. As he watched and listened, he frowned at confusion at the boy's mention of bugs, wondering what it meant. All he could tell is that it had made Rita _very_ anxious.

Suddenly the woman before him began talking and he had to abruptly withdraw from her mind in order to properly pay attention.

"Well," she said, with a strangely vindictive smirk, "He did slip once during the conversation and got as far as saying 'the Mano-'. Now I can't be certain, but my guess would be that they're staying at his family's ancestral home-"

"-Potter Manor," he finished and gave a weary sigh, "That complicates things."

"How so?" Rita asked, curious.

"What do you know of Potter Manor?"

"Well, next to nothing really. I did a little research of course. I even enlisted the help of my mother – she works at The Library – but I still couldn't find anything of use."

"Hmm, not surprising, not surprising. You see, the location of the Manor has for as long as anyone can recall, remained a family secret. Then there is the fact that their wards are supposedly only slightly lesser than those of Gringotts."

For her part, Rita was beginning to feel a little wary at how much information the headmaster was willingly relinquishing – especially as he was usually known as being pathologically vague.

"Did he tell you anything else that might help me in locating and retrieving young Harry from him?" he asked, distracting her from her paranoid thoughts, "A way to contact him perhaps?"

She thought hard for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, nothing."

"Ah well," he gave a great sigh before gathering himself again, "I do hope you'll forgive what I must do now Miss Skeeter. Please understand that it is for the greater good."

"What?" her eyes went wide as she saw he had drawn his wand and was now pointing it at her, "What do you think you're doi-"

"_Obliviate_!"

Quickly tucking his wand back into his sleeve, he waited for her to emerge from her stupefied-like state. Frowning a little, he mentally cursed that the information Rita had provided had not been what he was hoping for. He had been so sure this would be the breakthrough he had been looking for in regards to his search for Harry.

"I've- I've been… fortunate?" Rita suddenly spoke, sounding dazed and unsure.

Picking up the conversation where it had left off, Dumbledore gave the same response as he had the last time.

"Quite the danger to reputations from what I hear," he twinkled his eyes at her and she smiled, looking half satisfied and half groggy.

"I merely give the public what they want to hear."

"Perhaps, perhaps."

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	25. Flying Fun

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: Light and fun filler type chapter. Why? Because I wanted to. Don't like it? Too bad. (And my, aren't I feeling confrontational today :p ) __Seriously though, I've not been feeling like writing recently (sorry about that) so I figured something fun would get me back in the mood and I just really liked the idea of Evan and Moony teaching Harry to fly. I know it's not really contributing to the overall story but it just seemed too cute an opportunity to pass up. Yay for author's prerogative._

_A/N: Also, a BIG thank you to **aalens** who consented to beta this chapter for me. This is the first time I've had someone do that. So, fingers crossed that I won't have to sneak back to fix as many little mistakes as I usually do._

_A/N: Lastly I just wanted to mention that I've finally put up a website. It's something I've been wanting to do for a while now since I'm sure we've all heard the horror stories of FFnet pulling down stories for no apparent reason. This way I figure there'll always be an alternate host for _'_Second Life' if the worst does happen._

_More interestingly though, the site also hosts some random stuff related to the fic that I've decided to share (e.g. character profiles, a timeline, family trees, etc.) So yeah, check it out if you're interested. It's under the "Other Fic Stuff" section on the site. Just click the _'_homepage' link on my profile page._

**Chapter 25 – Flying Fun**

– _Fri, 3/6/1988_ –

For Evan, it had been a week long of good press. Thanks to Rita Skeeter 'The Daily Prophet' was now reporting in his favour, assuring all its readers of the boy-who-lived's happiness and safety. The public, being the mindless sheep that they were, promptly quietened down. The hate mail had stopped entirely only to be replaced with letters of support. Thankfully though, even those were petering out. Then of course there was the most fortunate aspect of all this – the Ministry had officially decided against intervening in the Potter boys' lives, meaning Harry was once again safe.

Naturally, everyone at both Potter and Longbottom Manor were quite cheerful about that, although – knowing Malfoy's reputation – they all very much doubted the man would simply give in so easily. Thus it was that despite the recent turn of fortune, they all found themselves in a state of cautious relaxation – waiting and expecting the other shoe to drop but at the same time going happily about their lives, glad that the situation had been dealt with for the time being.

The drama with the media aside, life at the Potter home continued as usual. The average day consisted mostly of meals, lessons, pranks, reminiscing conversations – this one from Remus – and of course sleeping.

This particular day, Evan had joined Harry and Neville for part of their morning lessons since they had been doing Latin and he was still determined to learn it. Once they were done with that topic however, he had bid all three adieu and left the classroom; wandering off aimlessly in the direction of his private quarters.

Entering the room, he wondered what he should do with himself when Hedwig – sitting on her perch – gave a loud hoot and flew over to him, alighting upon his hastily extended arm.

"Hello there girl. How are you?" he murmured.

He raised a hand to pet her and she cooed in delight, leaning further into his palm. Surprised at her overly affectionate behaviour but more than willing to oblige her he continued petting her and whispering endearments in her ear.

"…have to be _the_ most beautiful owl. Yes you are. And by far the most intelligent of course," she hooted in satisfaction, "You are in an attention seeking mood today aren't you. What brought this on?"

As she abruptly silenced, he looked into her eyes to see them staring reproachfully back at him. She gave an accusative hoot and nipped lightly at his fingers in what he recognised as a reprimanding gesture. His brows furrowed, wondering what she was trying to tell him before his eyes suddenly widened with understanding and regret.

"You're absolutely right. I have been neglecting you lately, haven't I girl?" she gave a loud confirming hoot and nipped him again, a little harder this time, "I'm so sorry about that. What say I make it up to you some? I know, how about we go outside? You can have a fly and I'll hang around to keep you company. What do you say?"

From the way she cooed and lightly flapped her wings in eagerness he gathered that she was quite partial to the idea. And so, off they went.

Ten minutes later he was wandering the grounds and gardens fronting Potter Manor whilst Hedwig circled high above his head, swooping down occasionally to be plied with one of the owl treats her wizard had brought along for the walk. Having long since abandoned his shoes, Evan delighted in the feel of the soft grass beneath his feet. He had known the Manor's grounds were nice – having glanced out the front door and various windows a time or two – but he had never given it a close enough inspection to realise just how beautiful they were. Gully really had done a fantastic job and he wished he had taken the time to appreciate it sooner.

Just then Hedwig gave a hoot. Circling him twice to make sure she had his attention she took off, flying around the side of the manor. Curious as to where she was leading him he meandered after her. As he rounded the corner he briefly dropped his gaze from Hedwig and stopped dead in his tracks. Jaw hanging wide he comically rubbed at his eyes as if to confirm that what he was seeing was true.

It seemed it was. They had a quidditch pitch.

Shock quickly becoming replaced with excitement, he broke out into a jog towards the pitch. It wasn't a grand as the one at Hogwarts. There were no stands, the boundaries merely outlined by a line in the dirt devoid of grass which he felt sure that Gully – being just as obsessive as any other house elf – was likely very particular about keeping bare. Still, despite the lack of stands, it was decent sized – probably equally as large as the school pitch – and had the requisite three giant hoops at either end.

Seeing a flash of white at the corner of his vision he instinctively held up his arm, giving Hedwig somewhere to land. Looking at his pet and taking in the decidedly smug expression in her eyes he couldn't help himself and gave a loud laugh.

"Brilliant, Hedwig. You knew this was here all along didn't you girl? You led me right to it."

The snowy owl hooted as if to say 'of course' and he grinned, quickly offering her a handful of owl treats as insufficient thanks.

"So what were you thinking; that we could fly together?" she hooted and bobbed her head, "I'm surprised that in all the time we've been together we've never done that before. I suppose it's because I was always either training or in a game. There's just one problem with your idea. I don't have my broom. Umbridge confiscated it and I never go it back, remember girl?"

She hooted sadly and Evan, not wanting to disappoint her, racked his mind for a solution.

"Oh, I know! Gully!"

'Pop'.

"Yes Master Evan?" the newly appeared elf responded.

"I have a question for you. Actually, before I ask I just want to say that the grounds and gardens look fantastic," he said enthusiastically and the little creature flushed with pride.

"Thankee Master. Gully, he is doing his bestest. How may Gully help Master?"

"Well, I was wondering if there were any old brooms around that I could use."

"Of course Master. Gully will show you to the broom shed."

Following the elf, he was soon led to a small wooden door set into the Manor's outer wall. Gully informed him that the password to the room was 'Gryffindor for the cup'.

"Password? Why on earth do we need a password on the broom shed?"

"Is was being Master's Jamesy's idea sir. He was being very protecting of his koo-ditch things and was wanting for them to be safe. Master Jamesy was wanting to curse the door so anybodies without the password would be turning into pink slugs also, but Master Jacob was not letting him."

"Oh," was all he could think to say, blinking in surprise.

"Gully will be leaving youse be now Master," he said and with a 'pop' he was gone.

Shaking his head, he quickly said the password and entered the room whilst Hedwig – not at all interested in exploring the small, dim looking room – abandoned her human perch and flew off towards the goal rings. Looking around, he spotted what looked like a quidditch balls case in one corner and a stand of beater bats in another. Apart from that, the only other things in the room seemed to be a number of old fashioned brooms hung from pegs around the walls. Seeing that they seemed to be arranged in order from newest to oldest – or at least he assumed so, taking in their designs and relative conditions – he approached the one that looked to be the latest model among the lot.

Pulling it down from its peg he looked it over, reading on the handle in silver lettering that it was a Nimbus 1500. It looked to be a sufficiently decent broom, though from the looks of it he was sure it had nothing on the Nimbus 2000 and even less on his beloved Firebolt. Still, it seemed serviceable enough – far better than the school's worn old Shooting Star models which he remembered first learning to fly on.

Satisfied with his choice, he balanced it over his shoulder and headed back outside, shutting the broom shed door behind him. Too impatient to wait till he reached the field, he merely took a few running steps and jumped into the air, bringing the broom beneath him and shooting off toward the sky.

Exultant at being in the air again, he immediately pitched himself into an intense series of manoeuvres, whooping in delight as he did so. He performed fantastic twists, rolls and dives, pulling up so close to the ground that his toes trailed over the grass.

Finally slowing down a little, he began flying lazy laps around the pitch, weaving in and out of the goal hoops at either end. Feeling something brush past him he looked over in surprise and saw Hedwig. The owl had swooped past him as he weaved through one of the centre hoops, cuffing him with her wing as she did so.

"Oh, it's a competition you want is it?" he called out to her with a wide grin.

The owl circled back and hooted at him snootily as though to say 'as if you could possibly be a challenge' then took off ahead of him, impressing him with a tight barrel roll followed by a loop-the-loop. Harry just smiled wider and hurried after, copying the moves. And so, from there, they both became embroiled in an exiting game of 'follow the leader' – or perhaps more accurately, 'bet you can't do this one'.

Several hours later Gully popped onto the field to pass on Libby's message that the boys' lessons were over and afternoon tea was being served. Quickly storing the broom back away and then saying goodbye to Hedwig, who he was sure would be heading for her perch for a good rest, he hurried back into the manor.

Reaching the parlour he found a yellow, feathered Moony congratulating the boys on a prank well done. Evan shook his head slightly in amused and impressed disbelief. How the man could manage to retain an air of dignity whilst looking like an especially ugly version of Big Bird he honestly didn't know.

Finally noticing his presence – no doubt from the chuckles he was attempting to stifle – the other three welcomed him and invited him to take a seat and join them. Sitting down on the couch beside Remus he took a tea cake off of the platter set out on the coffee table and leaned back to listen to their conversation.

"What you could have done to improve it," Moony advised, "Is pair it with the voice altering potion – the animal sounds one. I'm not sure what species I qualify as but I'm quite sure you have a bird voice of some description."

Both boys nodded eagerly, scribbling the man's words down on their ever present spare parchment. Evan had to stifle a snort at the memory of Aunt Alice's reaction when she'd discovered their pranking notes. She had at first been shocked before theatrically despairing at the fact that Neville couldn't show such studiousness in his more conventional studies.

"So, what have you been up to today?" Remus turned to ask him after he had reverted back to his usual featherless self.

He grinned, "You'll never guess," he said excitedly.

"Well," the man said, tilting his head to the side thoughtfully, "Your rather remind me of your Uncle James at the moment. His hair used to look really messy like that after he went flying. He would have almost that exact same grin too."

His smile widened, "That probably because I just discovered the quidditch pitch," he shrugged and added coyly, "Wouldn't have been right not to try it out now would it?"

"I'm _so_ sure," the werewolf responded dryly with a roll of his eyes.

"You have a quidditch pitch here?" at the question he turned see Neville looking at his age-mate in awe.

"I didn't know. I never saw it before," Harry murmured, sounding just as excited.

"Let's go flying!" Neville said, jumping up.

"I'm afraid it's getting a bit late Neville," Remus interjected, "Your mother should be around soon to pick you up."

"She won't mind Mr Moony, really!"

"Yeah, please Evan, Uncle Moony," Harry pleaded, deciding to try begging, "Puh-lees can we go flying now? I've never even tried it before."

Evan looked to Remus for his reaction since Neville _was_ currently under the man's charge. The werewolf was firm in his response.

"No, I'm afraid not. Alice told me you're supposed to be having dinner at your Grandmother's tonight Neville. I don't think your grandmother or your mother would appreciate you being late," as both boys deflated he added, "But perhaps you might bring your broom on Monday's lesson and you can both go flying. If that's okay with Evan of course."

The older wizard threw the teen and questioning look and he nodded, seeing no reason why that would be a problem. At his easy agreement, both boys broke out into excited cheers.

..ooOOoo..

– _Sat, 4/6/1988_ –

Remus and Evan were sitting at the dining room table the next morning eating breakfast. Helping himself to a generous serving of bacon Evan looked over the full English breakfast arrayed before them with a critical eye.

"You know," he said thoughtfully, "Given the usual magician's diet, it's a wonder you don't constantly see us dropping dead of cholesterol problems. Well, that or ending up Dudley-sized."

"Dudley-sized?" the werewolf asked, arching one eyebrow in question over the newspaper he was reading.

Evan paused for just a moment before explaining, "Dudley is Harry's muggle cousin."

"He has a weight problem then?"

Evan snorted, "You could say that. He's the biggest seven year old I've ever seen."

"Ah. Well actually, a particularly bright muggle-born witch did a study into that."

"Dudley's weight?" Even asked perturbed and the older man threw him an incredulous look.

"Cholesterol problems in magicians," he said and Evan blushed, his mouth forming a silent 'o' of understanding.

"Er, oops?" he said sheepishly but Moony just chuckled and continued.

"I think her name was something Harrison. Anna or Alanna Harrison perhaps," he shook his head, "She ended up publishing her findings back when I was a seventh year. Apparently there are a number of health problems that a witch's or wizard's innate magic naturally keeps in check - that was one of them. She didn't gain much recognition for her findings of course – most of magical society doesn't even know what cholesterol is, much less care. Still it was a fascinating read."

Evan nodded politely, even though he found the information only slightly interesting. Just then the dining room door opened and in walked Harry.

"Good morning Uncle Moony, Cousin Evan," he greeted in a cheerful yet strangely formal manner, giving each a hug before jumping up into his seat, "Isn't it a wonderful day?"

Remus and Evan raised their heads and their eyes met, each one conveying a message that could be rather accurately translated to something along the lines of 'what's he up to?'.

"Yes, I suppose it's a nice enough day," Moony allowed.

Both watched on as the boy helped himself to some of the food before picking up his knife and fork to eat. Now whilst with any other child this wouldn't seem out of the ordinary, Harry himself was known to eat only using a spoon and fork whenever he could, finding a knife almost impossible to use.

Evan knew why of course; the Dursleys had never been willing to trust them with a knife – unless it was needed to prepare meals; certainly never for plain old eating. He himself had not gotten the knack of using his utensils properly until mid way through his second year at Hogwarts, much to his embarrassment.

Aunt Alice had of course noticed the younger boy's problem and had since been trying to correct it by encouraging him to eat with knife and fork whenever they dined together. Harry however was always reluctant, claiming he was perfectly capable of eating using his fork and spoon method.

And so it was that as Evan sat watching his younger self attempt to meticulously cut up his meal – forehead and nose scrunched up and with his tongue poking out the side in concentration – he couldn't help but wonder just why he was putting in such an effort this morning.

"So, what were you planning on doing today?" he asked the boy.

"I dunno," Harry said in a suspiciously innocent tone, "I'm sure I'll think of something."

Before he could say anything further he heard Remus snort in amusement. Turning to look at the man, he followed his amused gaze to Harry's plate – and laughed aloud himself.

"Harry," Remus said, seemingly surprisingly composed, "It is generally unnecessary to use a knife to cut up mashed potatoes."

Harry it seemed had taken his newfound determination to use a knife quite seriously indeed. He was slicing up everything before eating it and – having reached the potato - had squashed it out flat then used his knife and fork to 'cut' the mash into tiny, grid-like sections.

"Now," the werewolf continued, "How about you tell us what you're really up to this morning?"

Harry turned to look at his uncle with wide unblinking eyes and an overly exaggerated expression of shock.

"I don't know what you mean," he said in a very 'little boy' voice and Evan had to bite back a laugh.

"Harry, normally you're a decent liar but you have to remember not to overdo it," Remus told him in his 'professor voice'.

"Have to remember to write that one down," the boy could be heard to mutter before giving a defeated sigh, "Sorry. I'll try to do better next time."

Seeing Remus give a stern nod in return Evan couldn't help but break down in laughter.

"You do realise you're giggling, don't you?" Moony's voice said, cutting of his hilarity abruptly.

"I was not!" he objected indignantly, "I was- chuckling. And in a very manly fashion! And stop laughing at me Harry."

"Of course," the werewolf agreed with an annoyingly condescending expression, "And was there a reason for your gigg- I'm sorry, 'manly chuckling'?"

"I don't know if I want to tell you now," he sniffed haughtily.

"Just tell us."

"Oh fine. I just found it funny that I'd once jokingly complained to Aunt Alice about Neville 'corrupting' Harry when ironically, I should have been more concerned with the ever responsible Mr Lupin."

"It's always the quiet ones," Harry piped up sounding quite solemn and serious, much to the amusement of his elders.

"Where on earth did you hear that?" Evan asked after gathering his self-control again.

He shrugged, "Read it somewhere."

"Right… well, you still haven't answered Moony's question."

They both watched as the boy shifted unconsciously about in his seat before looking up hesitantly.

"Well I was just thinking," he explained in a falsely blithe tone, "That's it's not really late right now."

Two sets of eyes – one amber and one emerald – stared at the child in confusion.

"Riiight…" Evan drawled, "I suppose that's true what with it being _early morning_ and all."

"Was there any particular reason you feel the need to point that out?" Moony asked and the boy began babbling.

"Well, yesterday you said the reason was because it was too late but since you said it's not too late now I was hoping that maybe," he threw them both his best wide-eyed hopeful look, "Maybe we could go flying today?"

Evan's brows rose high, "That's what all the weirdness has been about this morning?" he asked incredulously.

Harry pouted, "I was trying to be on my bestest behaviour so you'd be more likely to say yes."

The other two wizards shared a glance and the elder one raised an eyebrow as if to say 'well, what do you say?' Evan grinned.

"I think flying sounds like a brilliant idea."

..ooOOoo..

Half an hour later the three of them were outside, rounding the corner of the mansion. Evan looked up at the quidditch pitch as it came into view, an excited grin on his face.

"Wow," he heard the whisper and turned to see Harry's staring up at the hoops in awe, "It looks so much bigger than in the books."

"What say we go grab a broom each then?"

Harry nodded and they headed towards the broom shed, Remus leading the way. As the werewolf gave the password – "Gryffindor for the cup" – he thought to wonder how the man had known where the room was as well as how to get in.

"James invited a few of us over to spend Christmas here back in my fifth year at Hogwarts. Naturally, James and Sirius couldn't possibly spend so long away from their broomsticks."

"They voluntarily went flying in the middle of winter?" he said incredulously before hesitating as he realised it sounded like something he would do also, "Well- I suppose that's not too bad a thing."

A snort, "Speaking from experience are you?" the man's voice was knowing, "Well, Mrs Potter was less than impressed and we all ended up spending the rest of the holidays being constantly dosed up with Pepperup Potions."

Turning the handle the werewolf held the door open for the Potter boys to enter the room. Evan immediately stepped up to one of the walls and took down the Nimbus 1500 he had flown the previous day. Turning he smiled to see Harry staring about the room with a mixture of awe, curiosity and excitement. This was his first time seeing a real flying broom outside of his books after all.

"Which one do I get to use?" he asked eagerly.

The little boy was bounding on the balls of his feet and had his hands clasped tightly together behind his back as though to resist the temptation to simply run over and pull one down immediately.

"Well, I had a look yesterday and they seem to be arranged from newest to oldest-"

"Actually," Moony interrupted, "They're arranged taking into account how long ago they were bought, date of release, condition, quality, visual appeal, wear and tear…" he trailed of at the incredulous looks he was getting and huffed, rolling his eyes, "It was James's own personalised system and to be honest I never quite understood it completely myself."

"Huh," Harry said, looking both thoughtful and perturbed, "My dad was a little bit- weird sometimes, wasn't he?"

"James took his quidditch very seriously," Moony said diplomatically but the twitch of his lips gave his away amusement, "Your best bet is to just assume that the brooms are arranged from best to worst starting from the left here – the best being the one you just took down Evan."

"I thought as much. What do you suppose would be the best broom for Harry to start on?"

"Well, normally I'd say go for an older model – something slower and sturdy – but James always used to tell us that Potters for generations have hade an affinity for flying."

"It's true," Harry nodded and the others looked at him questioningly, "Gwen told me about it when I was telling her about how you said Dad was a animus."

"It's 'Animagus', not animus," Remus corrected with amusement, "But still, what does that have to do with flying."

"She was surprised when I told her he was a stag since most Potters who become one are birds or other flying animals because of we have that flying aff- affa-"

"Affinity," Evan supplied and the boy nodded.

"Yeah, that."

"Huh, I wonder if I'd be a bird then?" the elder Potter mused, rather taken with the idea of being able to fly broomless.

"Thinking of becoming an Animagus yourself, are you?" Remus asked, eyebrow quirked in a way that suggested he was torn between disapproval and intellectual interest at the process.

"It never really occurred to me," he blinked in surprise at the suggestion before giving it thought and smiling slightly, "But you know, now that you mention it…"

A sigh, "If you do then remember to be careful and keep me updated on your progress so I know what you're doing," he said sternly.

Evan had to hide a pleased grin at having that fatherly tone – the one usually reserved for Harry and on occasion Neville – directed at he himself for once. Still, he immediately nodded in response knowing the request was quite reasonable.

"Promise," he said before getting back to the purpose of their presence in the shed, "Anyhow, what were we saying? Oh, 'slow and sturdy brooms' but then you mentioned that Potters are flyers…"

"Right," Remus picked up where we left off, "So we could probably start Harry off on any broom here. Still, just to be on the safe side," the wizard took down two brooms from their pegs, "How about you try this one first and I'll swap over with you if that goes well."

The broom Remus held onto for the time being was the next best after the one Evan himself held, being an earlier model of Nimbus – the 1001. The one the werewolf handed over to Harry however was from a few down the line; an old Cleansweep Four. Still, despite its age it appeared decent enough and had obviously been well looked after. Added to that, if Evan's memory of Ron's many enthusiastic quidditch lectures were correct, this model had been known for its reliability and easy handling. It really did seem the best choice for Harry's first flight.

Leaving the shed the three trudged towards the pitch. Evan and Remus lead the way, brooms slung over their shoulders whilst Harry followed eagerly along behind carrying his delicately in two hands before him. Evan had to smile at that, remembering having treated his first broom in much the same manner. Of course the situation was slightly different, the Cleansweep not really being the boy's _own_, but the principle still seemed to apply.

"Okay," he finally said, stopping and dropping his broom at his feet with Remus doing the same, "I'm assuming everyone starts learning by calling up their broom?" he looked to the werewolf questioningly and the man nodded.

"So do I put mine on the ground too?" Harry asked and they both nodded, "What now?"

"Stand beside the broom, hold a hand over it and then say 'Up'," he explained and grinned at the awe on his younger self's face as the Nimbus 1500 rose swiftly to slap into his grasp, "Now you try."

After watching Remus call his own broom – Evan noticed it rose slowly, but steadily all the same – Harry gave it a go.

"Don't worry if you don't get it first try," the werewolf quickly warned and Harry nodded before adopting a serious expression.

"Up!"

The little boy's eyes widened with surprise and an excited squeak slipped past his lips as the broom jumped eagerly into his hands on the first try. He sent them both a proud grin.

"What now?"

"You want to do the teaching part?" Evan asked Remus and at the questioning look explained, "Flying has always been sort of- instinctive for me. I could teach this first part but as for the rest of it the best I could say is 'hop on and go for it'."

Moony snorted in amusement at the potential lesson plan and wisely agreed to his young friend's offer. As he began explaining the basics to Harry, Evan took the opportunity to jump on his broom and take flight. Floating lazily several metres above them he watched with a smile the attentive eagerness on his younger self's countenance as he listened eagerly to the elder wizards pointers. It was all really a waste of time of course. He and Harry _were_ the same person after all and he had no doubt that – as it had been for him his first time – as soon as the boy got in the air, everything would come to him naturally. Despite his joking comment before, in this case 'Hop on and go for it' would actually have been a perfectly reasonable teaching method.

Still, he was glad he'd handed the reigns over to the werewolf. Harry seemed to be quite enjoying the lecture, soaking everything up and interrupting frequently with questions. As for Remus he was surprised to note the man had not adopted his 'professor voice' for the occasion. He was instead instructing in a friendly, gentle and encouraging sort of way that struck the young lord as being somewhat avuncular.

Seeing that the lesson had finally progressed to Harry mounting his broom, Evan lazily drifted down towards the duo, not wanting to miss anything.

"Let's see. Huh, your grip is perfect; and on the first go too. Very well done," Moony complimented causing the boy to flush slightly at the praise, "Now, when I say go you're going to…"

"Take off, rise a few feet, wait a couple seconds, then come straight back down," Harry said as though reciting previous instructions and the man smiled and nodded.

"Alright then, ready, set-"

"Wait! Where's Evan? I want him to watch," the boy searched the sky and jumped in surprise at finding his elder self already floating close by.

"Saw you mounting up and came straight over," he explained, "Didn't want to miss your first flight after all."

Harry grinned, "Okay, you can go now Moony."

"Okay, ready, set, go."

The two elder wizards watched with eager smiles as Harry – expression a mixture of concentration and excitement – kicked off from the ground before stopping to hover at six feet or so. Evan saw the enjoyment fill his younger self's face and noticed his eyes darting around. He had the distinct feeling the boy was considering simply taking off and seeing what he could do with the broom. Fortunately common sense – or perhaps fear he would be banned from flying again if he didn't follow instructions – won out and he easily lowered himself back to earth.

"Well?" he asked the other two, a grin covering his face, "Did I do good?"

"You did very well," Remus nodded approvingly, "You rose easily, stopped without problem and came back down just as well. Everything was smooth and surprisingly not shaky at all."

"I'm thinking you may just be a natural as well," Evan commented and Moony nodded agreement, causing the boy to light up.

"Does that mean I can try it Evan's way?" at the questioning looked he expounded, "Hop on and go for it."

Remus looked at him with a raised eyebrow, obviously deferring to his decision as he tended to do when it came to Harry. Evan had only to give the request a moment's consideration before coming to a decision. Whilst for any other child he would err on the side of cautious, he knew for certain that Harry _was_ a natural.

Deciding to get in a bit of fun first, he turned to his ward's begging gaze and gave his best stern expression. He had to bite down on his bottom lip to prevent from betraying his ruse as the boy's countenance became crestfallen. A glance at Moony showed the man's eyes were shining with silent laughter, obviously picking up on his game. Looking back to his pseudo cousin however he could not help but sigh and softened his expression. He really didn't like seeing the boy sad when he could help it.

"Sure. Get on then," he said and bit his lip to prevent from grinning as he watched eyes go wide with first surprise then delight.

Both elder wizards watched as their boy quickly mounted his broom again.

"Is my grip still right Uncle Moony?" he asked and the man looked over his hand placements quickly.

"It's perfect once again. You look ready to go to me."

Both watched as Harry merely stayed were he was. His body was practically vibrating with eagerness but for some reason he remained grounded.

"That means you can go now," Evan prodded but only received rolled eyes in response.

"You have to say it properly," the boy slowly said as though talking to a child, much to his elder self's confusion.

Looking over to Remus who had a hand over his mouth, clearly amused with his student's condescending manner, he raised a questioning eyebrow. The werewolf obviously knew what the comment had meant as he leaned over and whispered into Evan's ear, causing his eyes to widen in understanding.

Deciding to play it up a bit, he quickly stood up straight and dusted imaginary lint from his robes before adopting a stern expression – lips pursed and brows slightly furrowed. He cleared his throat pointedly and began speaking.

"Today we will be learning the pastime that is know as flying," he said and ignored the fact that the other two had broken down into laughter, no doubt because he had decided to imitate Professor McGonagall's voice – accent and higher register both, "You may address me as Professor Potter…etta," he had to concentrate quite a bit to keep straight-faced as Harry went down in a fit of giggles, "Now, are you all mounted and ready for takeoff?"

"Yes Professor Potteretta," Harry chirped with a wide grin as he jumped back to his feet, assuming position.

Evan allowed a small smile in return before becoming stern again and sending a glare at their third.

"Very good Mister Potter. Mister Lupin however seems to be dillydallying," he scolded in his still-high voice, "Well, don't just stand there – mount up boy!"

Rolling his eyes the werewolf quickly obliged and Evan nodded his head in overdone satisfaction.

"Very well, now onto the most important part of the lesson," he said, leaning forwards and noted Harry grinning eagerly, "Hop on and go for it!"

No sooner had uttered the words than Harry shot up into the sky. Remus followed more slowly behind, his gaze fixed on the young boy and – had Evan's attention not been similarly drawn – he would have noticed the werewolf's expression shifting quickly from watchful care to happiness and pride as the young boy quickly showed that he had most definitely inherited the family affinity for flying.

Needless to say, Remus quite willingly swapped brooms over with the boy after that – well, as soon as Harry slowed down enough to accept the offer that is.

..ooOOoo..

Later that day the group trudged back towards the manor. Harry was by this stage half asleep after so much activity and was being carried in by Remus. Still, even drowsy as he was, the wide grin of delight had yet to fade from his features – the boy had absolutely adored flying.

Reaching the broom shed Evan gave the password and entered alone, quickly replacing the three brooms he carried on their assigned hooks. Leaving the room and shutting the door behind him he looked over to see the elder wizard holding a finger over his lips in a hushing gesture.

"He fell asleep," Remus explained softly at his confusion.

Looking down he saw that the man was indeed correct. With a small smile he reached out and gently brushed the younger boy's hair from his face, smile widening as Harry sighed softly and snuggled even further into his Uncle Moony's embrace. Both shared a smile before heading back towards the front of the Manor.

"I don't know if I've properly thanked you for this," Remus said quietly so as not to awaken the boy in his arms.

"This what?" Evan asked, keeping his voice soft also.

"For the job and the home. But mostly for letting me be a part of Harry's life again."

"It's nothing."

"No, it's not 'nothing' – not to me. After everything with Dumbledore I was half afraid I'd never see my cub again."

"Cub?" he asked in confusion and Remus blushed a bit in embarrassment.

"Sorry, that's my wolf talking. Ever since he was born Moony had considered Harry a cub of his pack."

"It must have been very hard for you being separated from him then. Especially so soon after losing Uncle James, Aunt Lily, Sirius and Pettigrew," he paused in consideration, "I'm assuming your instincts had included them as part of your pack as well."

He nodded, "They did. All that was left was Harry and then to be separated from him-" he shuddered, "The transformations after that were some of the worst I have ever been through. The wolf was mourning the loss of Lily and James and then it was angry at the betrayal of Peter. Not to mention the confusion of having thought Sirius the traitor only to find out he hadn't been but he still was gone anyway," he shook his head, "After all that having Dumbledore separate us from Harry sent him over the edge; Moony was almost insane with fury and grief."

There was a moment of silence as they continued walking, rounding the corner of the mansion. Evan looked back to the man walking beside him as a thought occurred to him.

"Has it been better since you've been here? I mean I know Harry's not an Animagus so he can't be right there with you on the full moon, but does it help the wolf to know you're not separated from him anymore?" he asked and Remus turned to him with a soft smile.

"Yes, definitely. The Wolfsbane allows me to keep my human mind of course but even with it the wolf is ever present at the back of my consciousness. Ever since I arrived at the manor there's been a calm to him that I haven't felt in years," he paused and hesitated for a moment and Evan got the distinct feeling he was embarrassed about something before he finally decided to continue, "Actually Moony has even started rebuilding his pack," at the Potter Head's quirked eyebrow he looked away as he explained, "It happened so gradually I didn't notice at first but for a while now my wolf has seen you as part of his pack as well."

At that statement Evan felt himself flush slightly in pleasure. He hadn't realised it until just now but the opinion of this world's Remus had come to mean a lot to him and he was thrilled at the implications of the man's admission.

Looking over he noted that his companion was still silent and had his gaze averted. For a moment he irrationally feared the elder wizard regretted his words and would take them back. Just then however, Remus glanced toward him and in his expression Evan could read hesitation and hope. In a flash of understanding he realised the other man was feeling just as insecure as he was and feared Evan would reject him instead. Considering for a moment how to ease his companion's fears, he smirked before speaking.

"Well, so long as he doesn't see me as a 'cub' too," he said, feigning a snobbish manner, "I'm sixteen years old I'll have you know. Practically a grownup"

Remus merely laughed, understanding that the joking was Evan's way of saying he approved.

"I'm afraid he somewhat does see you as a cub yet," he said and laughed again as the elder Potter boy pouted.

Reaching the front doors of the manor they opened before either could reach for the handle and neither were surprised to see Kell holding them open and bowing them in. Muttering quiet greetings and thanks to the old house-elf they walked past and started heading towards the family quarters upstairs. They walked in silence for a while before Remus returned to his previous topic.

"Moony has even started making connections with Alice and Neville," he mentioned and Evan's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Not as pack though," the werewolf amended, "At least not yet. More like allies and friends of a sort. I think it's the fact that I've been teaching Neville and looking after him so much; my wolf may eventually see him as another cub with time."

Evan nodded, since that made sense even to him.

"What about Alice?" he asked in curiosity and then blinked in surprise as he detected a faint blush spread across the older wizard's cheeks.

"Well, er-" the man faltered before answering, "Moony sees her as an ally and friend, as I said."

That of course didn't explain the blush and he raised a pointed eyebrow, amused to see the normally collected wizard's obvious discomfort. He soon regained control of himself however and spoke again, looking as calm as usual.

"As I was saying earlier out near the pitch, it really does mean a lot to me to be here. I remember when Harry was still a babe we all used to imagine what his life would be like. His first words, first steps. Well, we were all around long enough for that but then there were the other things. Seeing him off on the Hogwarts Express for the first time, taking him to get his first wand-"

"Seeing his first prank," Evan suggested and Remus threw him a grin.

"Yes, James and Sirius were quite eager for that one. Your Aunt Lily though – not so much," he paused, "What I'm trying to get at is- well it's things like today; teaching Harry to fly and seeing his first time on a broom. That's the kind of stuff I thought I was going to miss out on but now I won't. That's what I wanted to thank you for."

He nodded, understanding now exactly why the older man felt the need to thank him.

"You're welcome," he said simply, "We're both glad to have you here."

Reaching the correct hall, Evan walked ahead and opened the door to Harry's room so Remus could walk in easily then hurried ahead to pull down the covers on the bed. The werewolf shifted the boy from his arms carefully onto the bed before they both removed his shoes and pulled up the covers. Harry shifted a little, unconsciously reaching out for Mr Wormy before cuddling the toy to his chest and stilling once again and the other two stood beside the bed watching him with fond smiles.

"Today was somewhat bittersweet actually," Remus said softly.

"How so?"

"I supposed since I always imagined Sirius and James being there as well."

"What about Aunt Lily?" he asked and the other snorted quietly, turning his amused gaze on the younger wizard.

"Your Aunt Lily would have never willingly let Harry near a broom until he was thirty if she had her way. As it was though, she would have wrapped him up in pillows, layered the quidditch pitch floor with cushioning charms, ordered that her baby not be allowed to fly any higher than three feet and then threatened to curse all our ears off if we allowed a single hair on Harry's head to be harmed," he said seriously and Evan laughed lightly, "I'm quite serious actually. She would have done it too. You're Aunt could be quite the force to be reckoned with."

Not wanting to disturb Harry with their laughter the two left the bedroom shutting the door behind them, leaving their boy to sleep in peace.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	26. The Voldemort Situation

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: It's a SUPA-DUPA, long chapter! Yay!_

_A/N: For those who don't know, I haven't read past book five. That being said, this story will not follow the cannon facts of the last two books in any way (i.e. no __Horcruxes and such.) This will be particularly evident when you read this chapter and it goes into Harry's scar and connection to Voldemort and exactly what is means – or rather what it means in my story. So, I don't want to see any reviews complaining that "you got it all wrong, that's now what Harry's scar means" because I already know and quite frankly don't care. You have been warned._

_A/N: Lastly, credit goes once again to __**aalens**__ for kindly agreeing to beta this chapter._

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter 26 – The Voldemort Situation**

– _Mon, 6/6/1988_ –

On Monday morning at precisely a quarter to eight Neville Longbottom emerged from the fireplace in Potter Manor's entrance hall with broom in tow. The boy then promptly and quite imperiously declared that he _would_ be flying on the Potters' quidditch pitch today. Remus – who was by now quite used to the boy's often supercilious attitude – merely gave his student a stern look and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that so?" he said in a level voice.

The two Potter boys who happened also to be present merely looked on in amusement as the werewolf held the boy's blue-eyed gaze, not looking away until he began squirming uncomfortably and finally backed down, apologising. That last – the apology – if nothing else showed just how capable Remus had become at handling his often recalcitrant student.

Of course, even though he had shown remorse for his attitude, Neville was not one to give in so easily when he wanted something. So it was that after a short pause the boy immediately switched tactics and implemented the begging method of approach instead.

"You can beg all you like Neville but both you and Harry _will_ be studying and attending lessons today just as usual," Remus said sternly before turning and heading in the direction of the classroom without waiting for a response.

"Aww, Mr Moo-" the still complaining boy whined before being cut off.

"-but!" he said, pausing at the doors to the hall to look back, "If you both are well behaved today, and Evan agrees…"

The man trailed off, throwing a questioning look to the elder Potter who quickly caught on and nodded his consent.

"Which he does," the werewolf continued, "Then I may be convinced that we should all go flying a bit during free-time after lunch and perhaps at the end of today's lessons also."

No sooner had he issued the compromise than Neville and Harry both cheered in delight and hurried to follow their tutor. The last thing Evan heard as the three left the room was Harry babbling to his best friend about all the flying he had done over the weekend and Neville's demands that he "tell me _everything_!".

..ooOOoo..

The rest of the week passed in much the same manner as the first day had – minus Neville's arriving with his broom and making demands upon arrival. The demands had been halted because the boy knew Remus would be less than pleased with such an attitude. As for his broom, he had been told not to bother bringing it the next time – risking damaging it on the floo trip over – since there were several spares in Potter Manor's broom shed.

Neville's grumblings about his broom being far superior to the crummy old ones in the shed had lasted a surprisingly short amount of time. Evan suspected that had a lot to do with the fact that Remus had done that raised eyebrow thing again and pointedly reminded the boy that flying was conditional upon his behaviour. The Potter Head found himself quietly impressed once again at how well Remus handled the headstrong Longbottom heir.

As for himself, Evan joined them for their short flying sessions after lunch each day and was surprised and – when recalling the version of the boy from his world – amused to find that Neville's boasts were not entirely unfounded; he really was quite decent on a broom.

As for the rest of his time, Evan spent the majority of it either flying solo – or with Hedwig whenever she deigned to join him – reading in the library, exploring the seemingly never ending corridors of the mansion or just lazing about. He even occasionally set aside some time to spend chatting to the house-elves and Gwendolyn. Unsurprisingly the latter of the aforementioned proved to be the better – though not necessarily the most enthusiastic – conversationalist, given in no small part to her more proper grasp on the English language and correct grammar.

..ooOOoo..

– _Thur, 9/6/1988_ –

This particular Thursday morning, Evan had been meandering about the library when he absentmindedly picked up a book and flicked through the pages. Seeing it was a history text – which he considered one of the more boring subjects – he had been about to return it to its place when a certain chapter caught his eye. Heaving a great sigh he had fallen into the nearest seat and stared blankly at the pages before him for some time.

He should have expected it, he supposed. The peaceful state of affairs he had been living in this last while was more than a little uncommon for him. It had only been a matter of time before the tranquil days soon began getting to him and his mind turned to darker thoughts. This book was really just the catalyst.

Focusing his gaze again, he traced his fingers over the chapter heading. '_You-Know-Who and the Boy-Who-Lived_'. He knew that the Dark Lord was still out there somewhere and would no doubt eventually return but he supposed he had pushed the thought to the back of his mind, wanting to enjoy the peaceful life he was building for as long as possible.

As the deeper understanding of his actions – or lack thereof – dawned on him, a memory suddenly flickered to the forefront of his mind followed by another and another, sending his emotions into turmoil.

Ron; hateful words and vicious sneers, his mind no longer his own. Hermione; her eyes one bright with intelligence now dulled and dazed but for the sharp moments of pain. And Sirius – even now so many months later, the thought of his godfather made his breath hitch – Sirius falling and falling, slipping through the veil.

Merlin but he knew! He knew how serious the situation with Voldemort really was or rather could easily become. Ron, Hermione and Sirius were proof of that. And yet here he had been treating this new dimension as a vacation, despite the friends and family he had made here – people who could easily come to harm if Voldemort returned again. And he- he had been to busy basking in the fragile peace of this world and lazing around to give the situation its due consideration. He was so damned selfish.

Thoughts growing darker with his self-condemnation he buried his head into his hands, fingers gripping his hair tightly. In the state he was in he remained unaware of his surroundings; not hearing the door to the library opening. Nor did he hear the chatting of voices which suddenly quieted before footsteps approached him. It wasn't until a familiar voice called out to him in a concerned tone that he finally looked up to see he had company.

"Evan?" asked Remus.

Raising his head from his hand he vaguely noted the surprised gasps and worried expressions he was confronted with; a corner of his mind wondering at their cause. Of course little did he know but he made quite a sight at that moment. His hair had been exceedingly ruffled by his hands, his brows were drawn down in anger and sadness and his eyes – wide and wild – were glassy with tears. He looked quite distressed.

Remus was of course now more than a little concerned and so knelt down before the teen, his two young students hovering worriedly behind him. Resting one firm hand on his recently declared cub's knee he raised the other to his chin, forcing the wide green eyes to focus on his amber ones.

"Evan," he repeated in a level yet comforting tone, "Tell me what's wrong."

He released the boy's chin then and watched his mouth open and close several times as he struggled for words.

"… selfish … be back … doing nothing …" he mumbled before regaining some control of himself, "I- I just realised something is all."

"What did you realise?"

Evan bit his lip, wondering what to say; 'I just realised I've been completely disrespecting the memories of my friends from my home dimension, not to mention recklessly endangering those I've made here by ignoring the Voldemort situation'? Well it would be accurate enough he supposed but he could hardly explain it to Moony like that – the man had no idea of his true origins.

Seeing his cousin's returning anxiety young Harry rushed forward, throwing himself onto his lap. Evan reacted without thought and wrapped his arms automatically around his young ward, feeling his calm return.

"Thank you," he murmured, kissing the messy head resting against his chest.

"Are you okay Evan?" Harry asked and he looked down to see the child's concerned gaze turned up at him.

"I- well yes and no," he said, eyes unconsciously flickering to Remus and Neville who were stood before them.

"Is it-" Harry began before biting his lip and glancing at them also, "Is it something to do with- you know, the secret stuff?"

Evan's attention quickly turned to his younger self in alarm before relaxing again as it was obvious the boy knew not to give too much away. He nodded, avoiding the curious looks the other two sent him.

"Yeah, but it'll be alright," he assured before abruptly changing the topic, "What are you three doing in here anyway? I thought you had lessons."

"We were looking for you actually," Remus commented and the teen raised a brow, internally relieved that the man was not pursuing the 'secret stuff' subject, "It's ten o'clock and we were about to take our tea break. Harry wanted to fetch you personally and Tilly said we'd find you here."

"Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go eat," trying his best to sound cheerful and recovered from his earlier misery.

Standing up he jumped to his feet without releasing Harry and deftly slipped the boy around his body so he was carrying him securely on one hip. He then headed off towards the parlour, leaving the others to follow. Unlike most boys his age, who tended to want to emphasise their independence, Harry – having been deprived of such positive contact most of his life – was happy to merely link his arms around his cousin's neck and be carried.

"Come on Mister Moony, let's go," Neville's voice behind him for once holding no trace of arrogance, marred as it was by his lingering worry.

Morning tea whilst short was a bit of a strain. Neville and Remus spent the first ten minutes throwing measuring glances at the elder Potter and asking repeatedly if he was certain he was alright. Harry thankfully knew better than to nag and merely curled up into his side, his presence a quiet support. Meanwhile Evan managed to surprise himself by giving a convincing enough performance that the two others soon dropped their enquiries.

Unfortunately Neville – having reassured himself that he was truly recovered – immediately began asking questions about the 'secret stuff' comment Harry had made. The boy seemed to take the existence of a secret that he had yet to be let in on – or at least discover on his own through less honourable methods – as a personal offence of some sort. As for Remus the man didn't pester them at all but he was obviously curious nonetheless, as evidenced by the fact that he was more lax than usual in reining in Neville's rather demanding interrogation. Thus the Potter boys spent a somewhat tense tea break doing their best to deflect the Longbottom heir's relentless questions.

Soon enough however the half hour break was over and the other three were to return to lessons. As the dishes disappeared and the others began leaving, he noticed Harry lingering behind as Neville and Remus headed towards the door. He looked at his younger self and cocked his head to the side in an inquisitive manner.

"Planning on joining them?" he smiled questioningly at the boy standing fidgeting before him.

"Well I was thinking-" the child threw a quick glance towards the door as if to ensure the other two weren't paying attention before continuing hesitantly, "I thought maybe – if you wanted…"

"Yes?" he asked patiently, absently brushing a lock of hair from Harry's eyes, which despite being a futile gesture since the hair returned to it's previous position, at least seemed to have the effect of reassuring the boy.

"Well I know you don't like to talk a lot about some of the bad stuff that happened but you looked really- umm, sad and angry in the library and I thought maybe you should."

Evan sighed, "You know for once I think talking to someone would be a good idea. And while I know you'd be happy to listen Harry, this is sort of a situation where I'd like to talk to an adult. Unfortunately neither Remus nor Alice knows my secrets."

"Oh, I wasn't thinking of me or them," the boy hurriedly reassured him, "I thought maybe you could talk to Gwen. I mean, she knows all about the secret and plus she says she was a hundred and forty something when she died and then that was a _long_ time ago so she must know lots of stuff by now and she's really clever and always easy to talk to 'cause- mmph!"

Evan smiled at the startled look on his younger self's face at being cut off so abruptly. Removing his hand from Harry's mouth he chuckled.

"You have a slight babbling problem there."

At the comment Harry blushed a little. He then opened his mouth to respond, only to be cut off again.

"There you are!"

The two brunettes swung their gazes around to see an irritated Neville Longbottom's head leaning through the partially opened parlour doors.

"We got down the other end of the corridor and realised you weren't following. Remus sent me back to get you so hurry it up," he ordered before disappearing again.

Both Potters shared exasperated looks at the boy's lordly behaviour.

"Nev's my best friend and all but sometimes-" Harry hesitated before whispering conspiratorially, "Sometimes I think I ought'a smack him in back the head."

Evan snorted, "Not sure his ego could be popped quite so easily but, if you think you can train him, I'm sure Aunt Alice would be eternally grateful," he advised, not entirely in jest, "You'd better get going though, before he comes back to physically drag you off."

Harry smiled and scampered towards the door before pausing and looking back.

"Will you go see Gwen?"

Taking in the expression on the boy's face he realised that despite his lack of nagging earlier he was easily as worried as the others. Partly to reassure Harry – and also he thought it a good idea himself – he decided to agree.

"Yeah, think I will. Now scat you," he said and the boy gave him a grin before disappearing out the door.

..ooOOoo..

"'Open in the name of Potter'."

The clinking of bricks signaled the closing of a wall behind him. Moments later further clinking sounded as the wall before him rearranged itself until it formed an open archway. Stepping through the newly formed arch the darkened chamber beyond was quickly lit with a '_whoosh_', alerting its single occupant to the presence of company.

"Visitors!" a cheerful female voice chirped as he descended the tiers before rounding the freestanding wall in the center.

Looking up he offered a weak smile to the portrait of his ancestor hung from said wall.

"Hullo Gwen."

As he had made his way through the manor's many underground passages in heading for the ward room, his mind had slowly but surely returned to his earlier musings and self-condemnation. The portrait Gwendolyn – perceptive as she was – had only to take one look at his expression before her delighted smile slipped from her face, replaced by a concerned and solicitous frown.

"Oh dear, your are in a state aren't you? Come, come sit here at my feet and tell me of what troubles you," she said, for once entirely serious, "I promise I'm a more than competent listener."

Not inclined to argue, he dropped cross-legged on the ground at the base of her frame before changing his mind and drawing his legs up under his chin instead. He watched silently as Gwen gracefully lowered herself to the ground also, pinning him with a soft and compassionate look.

"Now grandchild mine, tell me what bothers you so," she persuaded.

Her voice and manner were so gentle and understanding that before he knew it he found himself opening his mouth only for the entire story to come tumbling forth. He told her about his revelations in the library earlier. He spoke of how selfish he felt he had been. He recalled what all had happened to his friends in his original dimension and the fact that his inaction now risked the ones he had made here.

For her part, Gwen sat silently all through his explanation but for the reassuring humming sounds she occasionally made when he faltered. Her manner remained neutral and non-confrontational, neither agreeing nor disagreeing with what he said, simply letting him speak.

As his words finally ran out and trailed off he licked his lips only to find them salty. Raising a hand to his face he was shocked to find that he had been crying and hadn't known it. He looked up in surprise at the portrait woman before him. Her claims of being a 'more than competent listener' were clearly a grand understatement. He couldn't remember the last time he had allowed himself to unburden his worries to someone as he had just done. All the same he was embarrassed to have been crying in front of her and so swiftly wiped his tears away, avoiding her gaze.

"Your have nought to be ashamed of child," she spoke and he looked back towards her, his expression unconsciously sceptical causing her to smile, "'Tis true. In fact, there are times when tears are positively necessary."

"Maybe but it's not like anyone's died-" he paused, "Well except for Sirius but I've already cried enough for him."

"And who is to say how just how many tears should be shed for a lost loved one, hmm? No, there is hardly a set limit. If it still hurts enough to make you cry then tears are still appropriate."

He turned his gaze away before looking back again.

"Losing Sirius, it- it does still hurt but not like it used to," he struggled to explain, his confusion plain to see, "I just don't know why I started crying like that."

Gwendolyn gave him a long, inscrutable look before sighing. Shifting slightly she uncrossed and recrossed her legs to make herself more comfortable before leaning towards him. When she spoke her voice was infinitely soft and – for the first time since he entered – somewhat hesitant.

"Have you never considered that mayhap you need to grieve for your friends also?"

"You mean Ron and Hermione?" he asked, bewildered, "I know what happened to them was- well even calling it terrible is an understatement, but I'd already come to grips with it before I even came here. Not to say that it's ever going to be okay – because it's not – but I've accepted it."

His many times great grandmother nodded before suddenly biting her lip in a way that reminded him quite a bit of Harry when he was hesitant to say something.

"Yes, you may have accepted that parts of them have been lost. But, have you considered that you may need to mourn the loss of them as a whole now also."

"How do you mean?" he asked and watched her take a deep breath before continuing.

"Evan, your friends and yourself are now entire worlds apart. They are likely lost to you never to be seen again," she hesitated again before continuing, "For all intents and purposes, they may as well have died."

Her words caused his lower lip to tremble and he found himself wanting to yell at her – or rather just at anyone – but he could tell from the soft look in her eyes that it wasn't her intention to hurt him so he held his tongue.

Ducking his head against his knees, he wrapped his arms even tighter around his legs, curling into as small a ball as he could. As he sat there Gwen remained silent allowing him time to think. And, as he considered her words and the way they had immediately caused sharp pain to stab at him, he also realised he had felt no surprise. Somehow she had guessed exactly the reason he had broken down when he himself had not even been consciously aware of it.

With a ragged sigh he raised his head again and this time when he felt the tears he did nothing to stop them. He finally did as his grandmother had advised and allowed himself to mourn the loss of his two best friends. And, as he sat there sobbing the Lady Gwen sat with him, murmuring soothing words and humming sad but comforting lullabies.

Sometime later – it could have been anything from minutes to hours for all he could tell – his crying slowly petered out leaving him feeling drained and exhausted.

"Thankyou," he croaked out, looking up to Gwen.

"You've nothing to thank me for. I'm quite pleased you thought to come to me."

"Actually, it was Harry's idea," he admitted sheepishly, stretching one leg out before him and resting his chin on the other, raised knee.

She laughed then, for the first time since he had entered the room and as always the light tinkling sound put him at ease.

"Ah, I see. Well, I am glad you came nonetheless. I was happy to be able to help some," she said and he nodded, "Why don't you head upstairs and retire to bed. You look like you could use a nap."

"I don't know. There's still the whole Voldemort situation to consider and-"

"And it can wait. It will not hurt for you to take the rest of the day off. We can easily continue the conversation on the morrow, can we not?"

He sighed, knowing from the stubborn set to her jaw that she wouldn't budge on this. Giving a nod he lifted himself to his feet – surprised at how weak he felt as he stood – before heading towards the exit.

"Bye Gwen. And- and thanks again."

"I will see you tomorrow Evan."

..ooOOoo..

– _Fri, 10/6/1988_ –

"Evan! How are you today? Somewhat recovered I hope."

"Gwen," he greeted the lady as he made himself comfortable on the floor before her portrait, "I'm good actually; much better than yesterday."

"You got plenty of rest then?" she asked, joining him in sitting cross-legged on the ground.

"Some. Harry actually came to see me last night. He was worried about me I think. He slipped into my room an few hours after I tucked him in."

"Did you perhaps talk about things with him also?" she asked hopefully and he nodded.

"When he asked I explained a little about our conversation and so he started asking questions about Ron and Hermione – what they looked like, how they acted, all that sort of stuff. I ended up pulling out a photo album one of my house mates by the name of Colin made for me one Christmas. It has a heap of photos starting with my second year, especially a lot of me with Ron and Hermione. Harry and I ended up staying up half the night with me telling him stories about all our adventures," he explained with a fond smile.

"I'm glad," Gwen said with a matching smile, "It's always good to remember the good times. Harry is a very special child I think – surprisingly insightful at times too."

Evan nodded, "He knew just what I needed," he shook his head then, "Although I'm not sure where this insight of his came from. We're technically the same person after all and Merlin knows _I'm_ never any good at any of that subtle emotional stuff."

She laughed, "You will find that as your experiences differ so too will your personalities. And, given that Harry's life has diverged from yours at such a young and impressionable age, you will both likely end up quite dissimilar."

"Makes sense I suppose," he said before grinning and then giving an overdone sigh as he adopted a forlorn expression.

"What?" she asked, her lip twitching at his dramatic performance.

"Nothing it's just- I'm afraid I've made a _terrible_ mistake in telling Harry about my adventures."

"Really? How so?"

"Well he seemed just a tad too interested in my stories of tackling mountain trolls-"

"Trolls?"

"-and running from a nest of Acromantula-"

"Acromantula?" she gasped.

"-not to mention the time I defeated a Basilisk with only a hat, a phoenix and a sword," he said then paused for Gwen's commentary but she could only squeak, causing him to laugh.

"S-surely you jest," she stuttered but he shook his head, "Goodness you really have inherited my nose for trouble haven't you?"

He shrugged, "Seems so. Still, I hope Harry has enough sense not to try repeating any of those adventures-"

"Or rather _mis_adventures."

"Yes exactly. The story about how we illegally brewed Polyjuice Potion in a haunted girl's bathroom to sneak into the Slytherin common room however," he gave a hopeless looking shrug, "Well, I've the horrible feeling he just might give that one a whirl."

"Oh dear," Gwen said, shaking her head.

There was a silence for a moment before Evan decided to get to the main purpose of his visit.

"So," he said seriously now, "The Voldemort situation."

"Ah yes," the lady said, straightening up attentively, "Well, what were your thoughts on that?"

"Well, the main one- the thing is-"

"Yes?" she asked encouragingly.

"Well, this is actually something that occurred to me almost three months ago, back when I first told Aunt Alice and the boys the prophecy. I was thinking and I wondered if maybe – by my being here in this world – could there now be two possible candidates? Not Harry and Neville but Harry and-"

"You," Gwen finished wide eyed and he nodded, "Oh I see. Now that is a very good question."

"I mean, me and Harry both were '_born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies_', and the Dark Lord did the whole '_marked him as his equal_' thing to both of us."

"Ah, but one must also consider the fact that it was not _this_ world's Dark Lord who did your 'marking', was it? The question that must be asked is will that make a difference? Would it nullify your theory?"

"Yeah, I thought of that as well. But then I figured that both of us are prophesised to have this '_power the dark lord knows not_' regardless of which Voldemort was responsible for it, so shouldn't we both be capable of dealing with him?"

"That does seem logical," Gwen nodded, "Unless of course the power is somehow related to the link you spoke of sharing with your Dark Lord."

"Would that matter? I mean, Jarnack pointed out that Harry and I have the same magic when we were testing wands. If we're the same then shouldn't we assume both Voldemorts would have the same magic as well? And if they do, shouldn't my connection to my home dimension's Voldemort connect me just the same to this dimension's version, now that I'm here?" he wondered aloud before frowning, "And Merlin but this is getting confusing."

"Well," she said, considering his points, "As for the connection it all depends what it was based on. If it was a solely magical connection then it would depend on whether both dimensions' version of the Dark Lord underwent the same dark rituals in their bid for power."

"Why does that matter?"

"Well obviously any ritual that manipulates ones magical core – in this case with the intention of increasing its capacity no doubt – will unavoidably alter one's base magic and thus its signature."

"Oh," he said, understanding somewhat.

"And – as I said before – this is only relevant if the connection was magic based."

"What else could it be based on?"

"Hmm, well it could be identity or rather name based-"

"But I've changed that!" he exclaimed, hopeful at the thought the connection could be so easily severed.

"-_but_ since their was no ritual with mention of your name when he attempted to kill you – merely a killing curse – that option can be discarded," she continued and gave a sympathetic look at Evan's obvious disappointment, "Another option is your mind and – given what you've told me of sharing his thoughts and such – this one does have a basis for consideration."

"And if it is my mind – or rather our minds since Harry's in the same boat – is there a way to destroy the link?"

"It would all depend on how firmly the link was entrenched in your psyche. Too deeply and removing it could well destroy your sanity. Although," she added brightly, "It would likely send him insane also."

He gave her a disbelieving look, "Okay first, I'm pretty sure Voldemort's already insane, so no advantage for us there. Second, while I've never really had a problem with risking myself if it could help others, I'm not sure I'm too big on the idea of planning in advance to destroy my own sanity."

The sad look and pout she gave then ratcheted his disbelief up a notch. He was just about to go off at her when he spied the corner of her lips twitching.

"Gwen," he whined, not caring that he sounded petulant, "It's not nice to tease like that."

That of course broke her composure and sent her off into a fit of giggles. He sat there for a while whist she calmed down, absentmindedly thinking to cast a cushioning charm on the stone floor and shift over to make his seat more comfortable. Finally when her laughter had quieted into the occasional hiccup and rather unladylike snort, she managed to speak.

"S-sorry, but your expression!" she hiccupped, "Oh, hilarious."

"Yes, yes, let's all laugh at me. Now, back to the link. I take it you don't really think it's mental then?"

"Actually," she shook her head, finally regaining her composure, "I rather think it is."

"But then how could you joke about it like that?" he gaped at her

"Hmm, I will explain in a bit. First though, the last possible basis for the link would be a soul connection."

"Soul," he squeaked before paling, "Please tell me you don't think our souls are connected. Merlin, the very thought is disgusting."

"Oh no, I'm sure it's not that," she reassured him, much to his relief.

"Okay if that's the case then we've ruled out all possibilities," he said, scratching his head in confusion.

"Oh not quite; we never ruled out a magical connection. And, considering you have inherited his ability at Parseltongue -"

"-a magical ability."

"Exactly. Well it would make a lot of sense."

He sighed, "Alright, so the connection is not only mental but also magical, meaning if Voldemort went through the same rituals here – which I think he probably did – I also became connected to this dimension's Dark Lord when I got here. Or did I? Would the fact that Harry's mind and my own are different override the fact that our magic is the same? Would the connection still have been forged when I arrived here?

"Well either way, the question is how to sever the connection for Harry and possibly also myself," he mused aloud, not noticing the strange expression on Gwen's face, "Or rather whether we should even try. I mean, if the connection is the source of the '_power the dark lord knows not_' then it would be suicide to get rid of it.

"Er, Gwen?" he suddenly realised she had gone silent, "You can jump in any time now. What? What does that look mean?"

"Well you've jumped right into searching for a course of action and you have yet to ask why I previously took the presence of a mental connection so lightly?"

"Oh, right," he frowned in confusion, "Well, why did you then?"

"Well, to explain mayhap we should go over _why_ we believe there is a mental connection at all."

"Okay," he agreed, deciding to play along, "Well there's the fact that I feel it in my scar and my mind whenever he's experiencing any strong emotion."

"Strong? You must feel it quite often then," she said although from her tone it was obvious she knew that was not so.

"Actually no, not really. Only when he's seriously piss- er, I mean mad. Or, when he's completely thrilled about something."

"And why do you suppose that is?"

"Well, I don't know? Isn't that just how it's supposed to work?"

To his annoyance she merely hummed noncommittally before switching topics.

"What other evidence do we have for a mental link?"

He sighed, "The visions."

"Tell me about them?"

"What do you want to know?"

"Start at the beginning if you will and recall what happened in each of these visions," at his reluctant expressions she added, "I promise I have a reason for asking this of you."

"Okay," he took a deep breath and tried to remember, "Well the first main one was in fifth year during Divination class. I dreamt I was flying on the back of an eagle owl headed toward Riddle house – the place Voldemort was holed up. The bird and I entered through a window and flew down a passageway into a room where Voldemort and Wormtail were having a meeting. I left the owl's back and it flew across the room. Then, I listened to the other two have a conversation about some 'blunder' Wormtail had made and that 'fortunately' it was corrected and that he was dead – I'd later figure out they were talking about Barty Crouch Sr. Voldemort was angry at Pettigrew all the same though and cast the Cruciatus Curse on him and it was as though it had been cast on me too because I woke up screaming with my scar burning," he finished in a shaky voice as Gwen looked on concerned.

"You felt the curse?" she gasped raising her hands to cover her mouth as he nodded, "Well as horrible as that is it also adds to my suspicions."

"Suspicions?"

"Think about it Evan. You said the dream started out with you flying in with an owl yes?"

"Yes."

"And also that you watched the conversation from off to the side?"

"Yes," he nodded still confused.

"And then there was the pain curse," she added excitedly, "Think about it Evan? What's wrong with those facts?"

He frowned, finding her excitement at the thought of his pain rather inappropriate. Nevertheless she had never seemed a cruel sort so he decided to consider her question. He sat there for sometime before it suddenly occurred to him and his eyes widened in surprise.

"They weren't from Voldemort!" he exclaimed, "I mean there's no way he could have seen things from the back of the owl. And then in the room if I was seeing his point of view I should have been looking out his eyes, like I sort of did that time he was possessing Nagini and Mr Weasley was attacked. And the Cruciatus – he cast it he didn't have it cast _on_ him. He couldn't have been sending me the pain because he wasn't feeling it."

"Exactly!" Gwen was practically bouncing.

"But what does that mean and- oh!" suddenly his excitement faltered and he slumped down, "But my scar hurt. It must have come from him if my scar hurt."

"Not necessarily," at his questioning look she explained, "Ignoring the scar complication for a moment. The logical conclusion would be that you have some talent for divination."

He snorted, "Hardly. I get terrible marks in the subject. I lied my way through that class."

"But you told me you had a terrible teacher," she pointed out but he still looked sceptical, "Let's just pretend for a moment that it's true and the vision was powered by your own skill. It is possible that your connection to the Dark Lord acts as something of a- hmm, perhaps as a means of concentrating or directing your visions somewhat. That would explain why most of your dreams are of him and also why your scar is affected – it is a conduit of sorts."

Evan blinked as he took her words in, surprised to find that the idea didn't seem entirely ridiculous.

"How do you know all this stuff anyway?" he asked randomly.

"I was quite the avid student in my day," she sniffed haughtily before grinning and winking at him, "When I managed to keep myself out of trouble that is to say."

He shook his head and grinned back.

"Alright so I've got a bit of divinatory talent," he still couldn't suppress the slight note of disbelief, "And my connection to Voldemort – specifically my scar – can act as a conduit and a focus for it."

"Precisely."

"Okay, that seems plausible I suppose," he said before sighing and shaking his head, "I'm so messed up. Seer indeed. I wish I could be normal for a change."

"Now, now dear; there's nothing wrong with such a gift. Why my Aunt Rowena was quite a gifted seer herself back in the day."

"Rowena Ravenclaw?" she nodded, "Alright so maybe this isn't a bad thing. Although I have to tell you, I'm not big on the whole pain parts of the vision."

She winced, "Yes well one can hardly blame you for that."

"Anyway in all this theorising I've confused myself again. Is my connection to Voldemort only magical? Or is it mental also?"

"Well," she contemplated, tapping a finger to her lips, "Based on that vision only I would say only magical. But then there is the matter of you feeling his emotions. Also, I believe you mentioned Voldemort planting visions in your mind intentionally."

It was his turn to wince as he nodded.

"Yeah. Those visions were designed to lure me into the trap at the Ministry-" he halted and she raised a hand.

"Say no more. You need not relive those – their existence is evidence enough."

"Evidence?"

"Of a mind connection."

"Oh," he sighed, "I was hoping it would only be magical. I don't really fancy the idea of going insane."

"There is another way to break a mind link; to kill the other person."

"Well if it was that easy we wouldn't be having this conversation," he pointed out.

"True. However, as I said before it is only when the link is fixed very deeply in the mind that its severing can cause such complications."

"And, what? You don't think it is?" he asked incredulously, "I mean Voldemort was even able to possess me back at the Ministry if you'll remember. If that's not a deep connection I don't know what is."

"If it were solely through your link that he was able to possess you then I would be inclined to agree."

"Solely through the link?"

"Indeed. But if you will recall you claimed he also possessed the snake Nagini, did he not?" she pointed out and he nodded, "And I hardly think she also has a failed Killing Curse-induced connection to the wizard as well."

His eyes widened, "Oh, I never thought of that. And then there was the time he possessed Quirrell in my first year."

"Mmhmm. I think that whilst your particular connection to him facilitated it some, it is quite possible that possession is merely a magical talent that the Dark Lord possesses," she said and he paled.

"You mean he can posses anyone he wants to?" he asked a little fearfully and was relieved when Gwen's expression became thoughtful before she shook her head.

"No I think not. When he possessed your Professor the man was willing was he not?" he nodded, "And as for the snake, animal minds are far simpler than human ones and even were that not so, she was his familiar and likely consented to it. I think that the Dark Lord can only possess the willing."

"But what about me?" he asked before thinking about it, "Oh, it was because of my connection. It was sort of an easier way in for him. But even when he had control I was still able to push him out because I wasn't a willing subject."

"Just so! Oh, well done," she clapped her hands obviously impressed, and he blushed a little at the praise.

"Thanks," he murmured before deciding to return to more pertinent subjects, "Okay so we've figured out that the link is based on a magical and also very weak mental connection. So the question is should we try and break it?" then another thought occurred to him, "And can we? You gave me the impression that since the mental connection is weak we can break it without harming Harry or me – but what about the magical one?"

"Any magical connection not forged completely willingly and devoid of coercion is capable of being broken," she said as though reciting from a text, "Nevertheless, one must be extremely careful in doing so lest their magical core be damaged."

"Damaging a magical core? What could that do?" he asked worriedly.

"Worst case scenario?" he nodded and she told him plainly, "You could end up as a squib."

He paled, "O-oh, well that doesn't sound very good does it?" he asked weakly.

"No, not particularly," she said dryly.

"So we should leave the connections be?"

"I think," she considered aloud, "I think that you should. If the power to defeat him is connected to you both possessing that link then it's important we leave it be."

"What about our earlier question? Am I connected to this dimension's Voldemort? Harry and I have the same magic but our minds are obviously different," he paused, "But then I'd imagine Harry's mind is a great deal different from when he was marked as a baby too and yet the link still remains. How is that?"

"One of the many mysteries of magic. Somehow the link adapts as the mind develops. But," she added, "As to your question I think that the magical portion of your link did indeed transfer to this world's Dark Lord whilst the mental portion did not."

"So I have a partial link?"

"Not really partial; merely different. Think of your usual link and the one Harry now possesses as two links combined to form a single whole. The connection you have now and the one you used to have is different – as I said – but it is no less complete for that fact."

"Okay," he nodded, understanding a little, "So, we shouldn't break our links in case it's the key to the mysterious '_power the dark lord knows not_'. You know we never did decide if I had the power to defeat Voldemort here as well."

"Does it matter?" she asked much to his surprise.

"Well of course it does!" he exclaimed and she cocked her head to one side.

"Tell me, if you do have the power then what would you do with it?"

"I'd use it to defeat Voldemort so that Harry wouldn't have to," he said automatically.

"And if you don't?"

"I-" he paused to consider, "I guess that I'd do my best to help Harry and I'd be at his side to support him when the time came."

"So," she said slowly, "Either way, you are bound and determined to face him."

He blinked, "Yes, I suppose I am."

"Then your path is already set child. You will face him regardless," she told him and watched as understanding dawned on him.

"I will," he agree and there was a moment of silence before Gwen spoke up again.

"There is one thing I believe you have not considered. You said that if you could you would defeat the Dark Lord so that Harry need not. And, if you were unable you would be at his side to support him. Is that not so?"

"Yes," he said, uncertain of her point.

"And you don't think Harry would do the same for you?" at his confused look she expanded, "You really think he would simply allow you to take his burden? To simply step aside and leave you with the responsibility to defeat that madman?" she shook her head, "No, if you both possessed this power then he would be at your side also so that you might defeat him together."

"But-" he tried to object.

"Would you try to stop him? Order him not to? Dictate his actions to him as Dumbledore has done to you?" he winced at that.

"But he's just a child-" he suddenly stopped and hunched forward as he realised how hypocritical that argument sounded.

"I just- I want to protect him."

"Of course you do. And the best way to do that is to make sure he is prepared as you are."

He sighed knowing she was right.

"I'm not about to send him into dangerous situations willy-nilly," he warned.

"Well, of course not. But you won't coddle and shelter him either," she said sternly and though it was not a question he nodded nonetheless.

"Well we've decided it's best to leave the links be. Still, I don't like not doing anything," he ran an agitated hand through his hair, "I've been lazing about doing absolutely nothing since I came to this world."

"You are too hard on yourself," Gwen scolded, "Creating a false identity, making alliances with a pair of Gringotts goblins, making friends with the Longbottoms and Remus Lupin, rescuing and adopting Harry from the Dursleys, doing your best to raise a child when you're only sixteen, not to mention arranging his education and your own – well surely that cannot be counted as nothing?"

He shook his head, "Hardly; if it weren't for Uncle Moony an Aunt Alice I probably wouldn't have even bothered with going back to Hogwarts," his countered aloud before pausing and scoffing at himself, "Big threat I would be to Voldemort then with only an OWL level education."

"Now really Evan you're still almost a child yourself- No! Don't argue with me," she jumped to her feet and gave a stern glare that had his jaw snapping shut, "You're only just out of childhood yourself and you're only one person. You cannot expect yourself to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You _will_ stop castigating yourself over your supposed inaction, am I clear?"

Wide eyed he nodded hastily – not wanting to incur her wrath further – and was surprised to see her immediately let go her seeming anger and send him an overly sweet smile.

"Good," she nodded sounding quite smug, "I'm glad you agree."

He sat blinking as she then gracefully resumed a sitting position on the grassy ground of her portrait before looking up at him serenely.

"You're quite scary when you want to be," he murmured unthinkingly then slapped a horrified hand over his mouth.

Fortunately she merely gave a light laugh and settled herself more comfortably.

"I know. My Thaddeus always told me that if the children thought their mischief would be discovered they would go straight to him and confess rather than risk me finding out and dealing with them personally," she admitted with a wicked grin, before turning serious, "Now, you feel you should be doing more?"

Not sure whether this was a test after her previous scolding, he was hesitant in his reply.

"I get that I _have_ done a lot since I've been here," he allowed before continuing, "But ever since Remus arrived Harry's spent most of the days in lessons and I- well I've been doing nothing really. I'd pretty much shoved the whole Voldemort situation to the back of my mind and ignored it," he shook his head, disapproving of his own actions, "That needs to change. There must be something I can be doing here."

"Such as?" the portrait before him asked and he gave a frustrated groan.

"Well if I knew that then we wouldn't be having this conversation would we?" he said sharply before wincing at the sight of her pursed lips and less than pleased countenance, "Sorry. I'm just frustrated is all."

She watched him with his head hung low for a moment before speaking.

"Forgiven. But do not think to make it a habit to take your anger out on me," she warned and he immediately agreed, "Now as to your problem – hmm, let me think. Well I suppose the first thing you could do is consider your experiences with your Dark Lord in your dimension and whether any of that knowledge can be applied to advantage in this world."

"Okay," he said slowly, thinking, "Where should I start?"

"Chronologically would be easiest I think."

"Okay well I'm pretty sure that the night Voldemort was debodied-" he paused and frowned, "Is that even a word?"

"I understand your intended meaning," she said with an amused smile and propped an elbow on one knee, resting her chin upon her hand and waited for him to continue.

"Right, well that night was the same for both of us so far as I know. So, I guess I should start with my first year at Hogwarts. Hmm, that was the year Voldemort possessed Professor Quirrell to go after the Philosopher's Stone. From what I remember, the Professor picked up Voldemort's spirit on a trip to Albania before term started. Maybe I can somehow warn him away from going there when the time comes."

"You seem to have forgotten our conclusions with regard to possession?"

"What do you- oh! He was willing."

"Yes! And, given that fact and the rather great coincidence of him just so happening to acquire the Dark Lord just as you began your Hogwarts years and the Stone was brought to the school…"

"You think he went looking for Voldemort intentionally," he said and sighed when she bit her lip before nodding firmly, "Well he's a lost cause then."

"Most probably. What else happened that year that you could use do you suppose?"

"My friends and I prevented Quirrell and Voldemort from getting the Stone," he answered, "When I woke up in the hospital wing after defeating them Dumbledore told me the Stone had been destroyed. I suppose I could talk to the Flamels and plead my case – hope they would be willing to destroy the Stone without all the drama," he paused, "Assuming they exist in this world that is."

"They do," Gwen assured him, "I heard tell of them from one of your many times great grandmothers. However from what I recall the couple lived in seclusion from the wizarding world. Assuming that is still the case, I very much doubt you could find them easily."

"I suppose I could send a letter to them with Hedwig. She's yet to be unable to find anyone. Of course even if it worked what would I say to them?

"Dear Mr Nicolas and Mrs Perenelle Flamel," he spoke in a self mocking tone, "You don't know me and have absolutely no reason to trust me but all the same I would like you to believe me when I say that you need to destroy your Philosopher's Stone."

Gwen snorted, "Quite."

"I mean, honestly," he continued, "Apart from the fact that the Flamels would have no reason to listen to me, I really don't think I have any right to demand something like that from them. After all, destroying the Stone would be the same as suicide for them, wouldn't it?"

She frowned, "If would indeed ensure their own swift deaths."

"I wonder how the Dumbledore in my world managed to convince them?" he mused aloud as suspicions beginning to creep into his mind, "Did he force them into it somehow? Or maybe- maybe he just destroyed the Stone first before he even bothered to tell them."

As his thoughts turned darker he noticed that so too did Lady Gwen's expression.

"After all else he had done," she muttered, "It is not such a stretch, is it?"

He sighed loudly before letting the thoughts go.

"Well, there's no use us dwelling on it. There's nothing we can do really is there? It's already done."

"I suppose so," she replied sadly then shook herself, "Well if that covers your first year of schooling, shall we move onto the second?"

"Alright," he readily agreed, reining his focus back to his earlier task, "Second year, second year… that, was the year Ginny was possessed by the diary of Tom Riddle-"

"The diary of whom?"

"Haven't I told you before? No I suppose I haven't have I? Tom Riddle was Voldemort's birth name," he explained, "It's the name he went by in school. Anyway, Ginny was possessed by the diary and it used her to open the Chamber of Secrets."

"Uncle Salazar really did create a secret room then?"

"_Uncle_ Salazar," he choked in shock and she sighed sadly.

"They were all friends at one time you realise. They did devote a large portion of their lives to building and establishing a school together after all," she said before looking down at her lap, "Uncle Salazar wasn't always considered a dark wizard and it wasn't something that simply happened overnight. It was a slow process and very saddening to watch," she sighed and shook her head, "The history books are actually fairly accurate as to what happened. Needless to say though, it's not something I enjoy talking about."

"That's okay," he hurriedly reassured her, not liking to see the usually lively woman so dispirited, "Why don't we just keep going with what we were doing before."

She smiled gratefully at him, "A fine idea."

"Where was I? Oh, the Chamber of Secrets being opened," he looked hesitantly at Gwendolyn but she nodded calmly for him to continue, "As for the diary Lucius Malfoy should still have it at this stage – once again that's assuming it's the same in this world. If it is then I can't really do anything about that at the moment. I'm hardly going to launch an assault on Malfoy Manor after all."

Gwen laughed at that, "No, that would be inadvisable. Of course it is possible that Lord Malfoy did not keep the book in his home. It could even be in a vault at Gringotts."

He nodded, "As for the chamber, Slytherin – well I assume it was him – left a Basilisk in it," he told the portrait and watched her gasp, raising a hand to neck.

"Surely not?" she asked as though hoping it weren't so

He merely nodded and she sighed sadly, looking off into the distance in a seemingly lost manner. When after several moments she showed no sign of recovering he opened his mouth to speak but Gwen – eyes suddenly gone wide – beat him to it.

"_That_ was the Basilisk you spoke of defeating? The one with the hat, phoenix and sword I believe you said?" at his confirmation her jaw hung open in a most unladylike way, "But if Uncle Salazar left it there when he was still at the school then it must surely be over a millennia in age. Why it would have been positively immense!"

"Oh, it was definitely that," Evan said, eyes glazing as he remembered the fear he had felt when the huge beast had attacked him, "Honestly I think it was mostly sheer luck I managed to survive, let alone kill the snake. I very much doubt I would be so lucky a second time. Still though, I don't like just leaving the creature be, knowing it's in a school full of children."

"Hmm… what do you know of defeating Basilisks?"

"Well personally I had a phoenix to peck its eyes out first. Then I pulled your dad's sword from the sorting hat and shoved it through the Basilisk's mouth and into its brain. But I ended up getting poisoned by it's fangs in the process," he told her then, at her horrified expression hurriedly added, "Don't worry though. Fawkes – that's the phoenix – cried into the wound and healed me."

"Well," Gwen said suddenly, an eyebrow lifted, "I don't know whether to be proud or exasperated to know that my descendants so readily embrace by sense for trouble and adventure."

"I don't do it on purpose," he objected, "Trouble just seems to find me."

"If you say so child," she said disbelievingly before returning to her earlier question, "Now personally, I would not advise attempting that method against the monster a second time. In fact by my question I was hoping you had heard of the more- _mundane_ way of dealing with such beasts."

"Mundane?" at her nod he thought back to what he knew Basilisks, "Oh! Roosters!"

"Exactly! The crow of a rooster is fatal to such creatures."

"So I- what? Take a rooster down into the Chamber with me?" he asked then snickered, "Doesn't seem a particularly heroic way to go about it, does it?"

"Sod heroism-"

"Gwen!" he exclaimed – shocked to hear such language from the lady – but she merely ignored him.

"-it's much better to survive the encounter in my opinion."

"Right. Well the Basilisk will have to wait till I'm back at Hogwarts. I'm not sure what kind of wards the school has but I don't fancy bringing suspicion on myself by sneaking in; especially when I'm going to be going there openly soon enough."

"A wise decision. However, you seem not to have taken into account that roosters do not simply sing on command. The question is how to ensure it crows when you need it to."

"Preferably before the giant snake eats me," he commented dryly and she laughed.

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Maybe I should take a whole flock of roosters with me. More chance of one crowing that way."

"No, roosters tend to crow only near sunrise, when they awake."

The both sat in silence for a while then, each trying to come up with a solution. After several minutes Evan suddenly sat up straight.

"I've got it! A recording spell. Hagrid-"

"Whom?"

"Hagrid - he's the groundskeeper at the school – anyway, I know he keeps chickens because the year the Chamber was opened the diary used Ginny to get rid of them. I remember Hagrid complaining that something was killing them all. So, what I'll do is go the roost – or whatever you call the place the chickens sleep – at sunrise and I'll start the recording spell when the rooster crows."

"That," Gwen said after a pause, "Is a very clever idea."

"Thanks," he chirped, quite pleased with himself.

"Well now that we've covered the advantages from your second year, shall we move onto the third?"

"Actually, third was the one year I actually didn't meet up with Voldemort at all. That was the year Sirius escaped and Pettigrew was revealed. But," he sighed sadly, "Both are already dead here."

"Ah. Well we'll skip to the next year then.

"Okay that'll be fourth. Merlin that was one of the worst," he rubbed a hand over his forehead before sighing and casting his mind back, "That was the year of the Triwizard Tournament. I told you about the Tournament didn't I?"

"You did. If it will be held the same year here as it was in your original dimension then it is not something we need worry about currently."

"No, I suppose not."

"Did anything else of importance happen that year?"

"Umm," he settled his hands behind him and tilted his head back in thought, "Let's see. Our Professor that year was supposed to by Mad-Eye Moody but Barty Crouch Jr kidnapped him and took his place using Polyjuice Potion."

"What do you know of this Barty person?"

"Well in my world he was sentenced to Azkaban only to be broken out by his father – Barty Crouch Sr. His mother was dying and begged her husband to let her take her son's place. She died in Azkaban in the Polyjuiced form of her son."

"Well," she blinked, "That is a twisted tale. Do you think any of this information can be used in this world?"

"I'm not sure. I do remember reading about the Crouch family when I was trying to come up with my cover story. Just give me a moment to remember… I _think_ the books said that Crouch Sr ended up joining his son in Azkaban. In my world he dropped in popularity when it came to light that Barty Jr was a Death Eater but here there was also the whole big mistake with Sirius and Pettigrew. They ended up investigating him after that and he was sentenced because of all the corruption they discovered he was responsible for."

"So then the question becomes whether Mrs Crouch was able to implement the plan without her husband's assistance," Gwen mused and he nodded.

"I do remember reading that both her and her son died – him in Azkaban and she of some illness."

"But if Barty Jr _was_ posing as his mother, the death may have been faked."

"Exactly," he agreed and sighed, "I think the best thing to do is just to make sure to check all the Professors on the Marauder's Map every year to make sure they're really who they say they are."

"Marauder's Map?"

At her obvious confusion he realised he had never mentioned the map to her before and so went on to explain the device in detail. Gwendolyn was of course quite impressed.

"I'd say it would be a wonderful tool to help you keep out of trouble," she teased, "But something tells me the opposite is more likely true."

He blushed and was unable to deny her comment. It was after all true that the map had only helped in his trouble finding ways over the years – not prevented them.

"Now I believe you have mentioned previously that something else of particular significance occurred that year," Gwen said seriously, "The ritual which facilitated the Dark Lord's rebirth?"

"Yeah. And Cedric," he croaked, "He was killed."

She gave him a sympathetic look before continuing on their task.

"The ceremony itself; what do you recall of it?"

Biting his lip at the memories he nonetheless forced himself to remember that terrifying night.

"It- it was at a town called Little Hangleton," he began haltingly, "There's an estate there that used to belong to the Riddle family – that's Voldemort's father's family. Or it did at least until he killed them all. Anyway that's not important. The ceremony actually took place in the town cemetery.

"As for the ceremony itself, there was this cauldron. I don't know too much about the potion. I do know three of the more important ingredients though. I remember-" he shivered, "I remember Pettigrew speaking as he added them. I think the words were part of the ritual too.

"'_Flesh of the servant, willingly given_'," he recited the words, "Pettigrew actually cut off his own arm into the cauldron. The rat's dead already so that won't happen here I guess.

"But," Gwen added softly, "There will always be those who follow the dark, willing to replace him."

"I guess so," he admitted sadly, "There's really nothing I can do to prevent that part though."

"What else was there?"

"There was the part where Wormtail took my blood; '_blood of the enemy, forcibly taken_' was what he said. I'm not likely to let them get me so easily next time though. My ring has a portkey if nothing else."

"Ah, but you are forgetting. In this world they do not know who you truly are. They will not be wanting your blood for the ritual but rather Harry's," she pointed out causing him to frown worriedly, "We both already know you would protect Harry with everything you have. Is that not so?"

"It is. Of course it is."

"Then all else you can do is ensure that he knows to use his own ring's portkey if he ever finds himself in danger."

He nodded then perked up, "And my ring has a second type of portkey too-"

"Oh, of course; I had forgotten. As the bearer of the Head Ring you are able to portkey a wearer of any other family ring to your location."

"That's right. But how did you know?"

"You seem to have forgotten that I too am a Potter – albeit only through marriage – and my Thaddeus once wore the Head Ring himself," she reminded and he grinned sheepishly.

"Oh, right. Sorry."

"That's quite alright. Now you said you knew a third ingredient?"

"Yes. '_Bone of the father, unknowingly given_'," he eyes widened and then he smiled, a grim smile, "_That_ is something that I can do something about."

"You can?" Gwen asked, leaning forward eagerly, "What?"

"The graveyard where the ritual took place; they did it there because that's where Voldemort's muggle father was buried."

"Oh," her eyes widened in understanding, "So you will take and destroy the bones so that they cannot be used."

"Exactly."

He nodded his head in resolution. He wasn't naïve enough to think he could stop Voldemort's return entirely, but this was a crucial way that he could at least delay it.

..ooOOoo..

_**Please Review**_


	27. Grave Robbing

Disclaimer: The plot is mine. I own nothing else.

_A/N: I'm baaaa-ack!__Miss me?_

_Another shortish chapter. I've decided to stop apologising about them. They're gonna happen every now and then no matter what I do; that's just the way it works. Anyways, I figure a little update's better than no updates at all. Right?_

_Next chapter should be the birthday one so if you have any__PREZZIE SUGGESTIONS for Nev and Harry, now's the time to MAKE THEM KNOWN_

_**READ ME:**__Pairing opinions wanted!_

_Okay I've had lots of people asking about pairings. I've had requests of everything from__Evan/Alice to Evan/Tonks to Evan/Remus to name a few! Originally I had planned to avoid any pairings with either Evan or Harry altogether. But, with all the people asking I've decided that maybe I'll consider it after all. Of course I can't promise I won't end up sticking with my original plan but I'd still like to hear what everyone is interested in seeing all the same. So, when you review, feel free to let me know about any pairings you want to see. The only one I've definitely decided on so far is Remus/Alice._

_A/N: This chapter follows directly on from the last. It is later the same day that he and Gwen had their planning session._

**Chapter 27 – Grave Robbing**

– _Fri, 10/6/1988_ –

Later that night the Longbottoms flooed in for dinner at Potter Manor. The five friends were currently all sat around the dining room table, eating and chatting. For the most part their traditional Sunday dinner gathering had changed little from that first time at Longbottom Manor, but for the fact that Remus now joined them. Also, they now alternated weekly as to whose home would host the event.

Today did differ somewhat from the norm however; for once they were meeting to dine on a Friday rather than the usual Sunday. The reason for the switch was that Neville's grandmother had requested her grandson and daughter-in-law's presence at her home on the Sunday. And, as Neville had quite seriously informed them, disobeying his Gran was even more dangerous than disobeying his Mum. Fortunately, no one was bothered by the change in schedule.

"So," Neville said loudly, drawing him from his thoughts.

He looked up to see the boy giving his younger self a pointed sidelong glance. Harry however was oblivious to his friend's confusion, much to the amusement of most of the others at the table. The young Potter heir merely blinked in puzzlement, smiled innocently, and went back to his book. Or rather, books. As in plural. Very much in the plural.

From the moment the little boy had stumbled into the room earlier – his arms stacked with texts up to his nose – the two Longbottoms had been sending him baffled and amused glances. Evan and Lupin – quite enjoying their guest's bewilderment – had said nothing to explain the situation, choosing instead to wait until the two finally decided to ask what was going on. It seemed Neville had caved first.

"Soooo…" the boy tried again.

He was obviously hoping his green-eyed friend would take the opening to explain what was going on. Unfortunately for him Harry clearly still had no idea of the confusion he was causing and only gave him an uncomprehending stare, causing Neville to sigh in a loud and overdone manner.

"What's all this for then?" he finally asked plainly, waving his hand and the piles of books.

At the sheer exasperation that was present in the boy's voice, neither Remus of Evan could hold their composure any further; they burst into laughter. Even Alice was amused, despite being just as confused as her son.

"I must say though," the woman said as they settled down, "I'm wondering much the same thing. Why is it that you seem to have brought half the library to the dinner table?"

"Oh!" Harry said, obviously now understanding their confusion, "Quidditch."

"Ever since he learnt to fly on the weekend, he seems to have made it his life's mission to read every Quidditch book in the Potter library," Remus said, finally willing to explain.

"As soon as you're gone home for the day, he disappears into the library and only comes out for meals and sleep," Evan added to the Longbottom boy.

"Well, at least you have good taste in your reading choices," Neville said pompously, patting his friend on the shoulder, "Clearly I'm rubbing off on you."

The young Potter heir discreetly rolled his eyes at his friend's behaviour. To his embarrassment though the other three caught the gesture and laughed aloud, prompting a nonplussed expression from Neville and reddened cheeks from Harry himself.

"Well," Alice finally spoke up after all had calmed down, "I've been meaning to bring this up but I keep forgetting."

"Forgetting what?" Evan asked.

"I know we mentioned it perhaps a month ago but we got rather distracted with retelling the prophecy and all," she explained but he remained clueless.

"Magic lessons," Remus spoke, obviously catching her train of thought.

"Exactly," she nodded whilst the two boys perked up and listened eagerly.

"We're going 'ta learn magic soon?" Harry asked eagerly.

"Well we can't keep putting it off," Alice said then glanced at Evan, "We are still decided on that, aren't we dear?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "I think it's important."

"Bout time," Neville sniffed and Evan's lips quirked as he saw Harry's hand twitch towards the back of the boy's head before changing his mind.

"Well," Remus said, "I suppose I could set up some plans this weekend and start them on Monday."

"I thought you were just going to start with that sparks thing?" Evan asked curiously, "For wand control wasn't it?"

He nodded, "Yes but I also thought I might start them on some theory of the three core wand-based courses."

"Charms, Transfiguration and Defence," Alice said and nodded in approval before Neville let out a groan.

"Theory? But that's like- like, _work_," he moaned, "Not the fun stuff."

"But it's still magic," Harry countered, his mood eager and excited in direct contrast to his friend, "Come one Nev, it'll be fun."

"'Fun' he says. Learning book stuff is 'fun'," the Longbottom heir shook his head woefully, "Gonna be a Ravenclaw that one."

The adults all smiled, amused. In the comfortable silence that followed Evan recalled the task he had set himself. He needed for someone to look after Harry whilst he went to Little Hangleton. Unfortunately Remus – who he had planned on asking – now had plans which would doubtless keep him busy and holed up in the library for most of the weekend.

For a moment he wondered what to do before mentally smacking his forehead as the obvious solution came to him.

"Alice," he said, interrupting during a pause in the quiet conversation she had been having with Remus.

"Yes dear?"

"I had something I need to do tomorrow and I was wondering if you could maybe take Harry for a few hours?" he asked, noticing his ward's head perk up at hearing his name mentioned, "If it's not too much trouble that is. I mean if it is-"

"Evan," she interrupted his babbling with a kind smile, "That's not a problem at all. So long as I'm not busy all you ever need do is ask. Harry's a lovely boy; he's always welcome."

At her comment the younger Potter grinned widely, so pleased with the compliment that he forgot to ask what exactly it was that Evan needed to do.

..ooOOoo..

– _Sat, 11/6/1988_ –

The next morning shortly after breakfast Evan ushered Harry back up to his room telling him to get dressed and ready for going to the Longbottoms' place.

"Make sure you have everything you need to take with you."

"If I forget anything I have my ring to bring me back."

"Definitely not. You're not allowed to simply portkey off whenever you like; you'd worry Aunt Alice sick," he said then paused and blinked as he realised how parental he sounded.

"Okay," Harry agreed with a sigh and Evan nodded, heading back out the room.

"Oh, and you are to bring along absolutely _no_ pranking items!" he added at the doorway with a firm look before disappearing from sight.

..ooOOoo..

Almost an hour later Evan dropped Harry off at Longbottom Manor via his ring's return portkey mechanism (currently set to the home's parlour room). After a quick chat with Aunt Alice and ensuring Harry was settled he portkeyed back to his ring's primary portkey destination (the Entrance Hall of Potter Manor) and went in search of Remus. Finding the man in the library, already almost buried under piles of books and parchment, he let him know he was heading off. Receiving a distracted goodbye he then headed back to the Entrance Hall and took an unpleasant floo trip to the Leaky Cauldron.

Hauling himself back to his feet and dusting the soot from his robes he cast a glance around, satisfied that he was receiving little attention apart from the occasional amused look at his rather inelegant entrance. That was to be expected of course, his having cast his 'Barney' disguise upon himself before leaving the Manor. If he had come glamour-less he would no doubt have caused quite the scene but at it was he received not a fraction of the notice that he no doubt would have gained had anyone realised the mysterious 'Head of Potter' was in their midst.

Satisfied that his clothes were once again clean he removed his wizard's cloak and stowed it in one of his trousers' magically enhanced pockets before slipping quietly and unnoticed from the pub.

Emerging in muggle London he immediately paused at the difference, grimacing at the noise of the traffic and polluted smell of the air. Shaking his head he discreetly extended his wand to summon the Knight Bus, confident that its layers of charms would prevent its notice from the muggles, even here in plain sight. Although – he thought wryly as the triple-decker, purple monstrosity suddenly appeared on the street with a loud 'BANG' and came to a halt before him with the screeching of brakes – how anyone could possibly miss such a sight _was_ rather difficult to comprehend.

The doors wheezed open and he was greeted a pimply young conductor who reminded him of Stan Shunpike but wasn't.

"Welcome to the Knight Bus; emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard…"

Letting the man finish the familiar speech he then gave his destination, handed over a small handful of silver and went to find a seat. A white-knuckled ride later the bus came to a sudden stop.

"Little Hangleton!" the pimply teen called out.

Peeling his fingers from the rests of his armchair he stood shakily, nodding briefly to the driver and conductor before disembarking. As the doors wheezed closed behind him there was a 'BANG' and the bus disappeared from sight.

With a sigh he turned around, taking in his location. He found himself standing beside a badly maintained road with a sign off to the side stating the name of the town ahead. Looking in that direction he could see a small village in the near distance. It seemed a bland and dreary place, especially with the grey clouds overhead. Personally Evan thought that it was fitting, given that it was from here that Voldemort's father originated. Speaking of; he spread his gaze wider and quickly found what he was looking for.

Off to the right a fair distance from the town proper there was a dilapidated looking manor set upon a hill as though overlooking the village. Recalling from his fifth year – and the nightmares that followed it – that the manor was visible from the graveyard, he decided to head in that direction.

Not wanting to attract any notice – and knowing a stranger in such a small, isolated village would do just that – he decided he could use magic could aid him. Withdrawing his wand he cast a notice-me-not charm on himself – a spell he had learned out of curiosity shortly after he and Jarnack had discovered it was used to hide his parents' will – and headed down into the village. As expected the muggles barely acknowledged his presence and he passed easily through the cobblestone streets, heading towards the direction of Riddle House.

Finally reaching the edges of the town he found himself on an ill-kempt road leading towards the Manor. His attention however was drawn instead to the smaller, more worn path branching somewhat to the left and the wooden sign nailed to a tree pointing in that direction.

"'Little Hangleton Cemetery'," he read the sign aloud, "Looks like that's my heading."

Turning, he set off onto the smaller path. After a short walk he knew he was nearing his destination as headstones began appearing scattered throughout the trees. Shortly after that he emerged into the main section of the cemetery and stopped. Looking around he couldn't help the memories that suddenly swirled through his mind's eye as he mentally relived his past experiences in the alternate version of this graveyard.

Several minutes later Evan came back to awareness to find himself slumped against a nearby tree, shivering and with his arms wrapped tightly about himself. Forcing himself to take deep, even breaths he felt that he was finally calming down and was able to then take in the scene around him in a more clinical manner.

The most obvious detail was that it was currently daytime, as opposed to the darkness in which he had arrived during the last task of the Triwizard Tournament. Which also meant there was no cup, no Cedric, no Wormtail and no Voldemort present. Those thoughts calmed him immensely and he was able to pull himself back to his feet and look around. Even in the daytime it was a gloomy looking place but he found now that his unreasonable panic had abated that it really didn't instil the same terror it had that night. Of course that could have a lot to do with the fact that he was not here due to being kidnapped to take place in a dark ritual.

He snorted in amusement at his sardonic thoughts and began wandering between the headstones, absentmindedly reading names and inscriptions as he passed. Spotting a familiar angel statue he came to a halt and pivoted in a circle, managing to make it two thirds of the way around before stopping short.

"And there it is," he murmured to himself as he forced his feet to move towards the large, marble headstone, "'Tom Riddle'."

Voldemort's father's grave.

He stood staring blankly at the engraved name before blinking and forcing himself into action.

"Right," he nodded, shaking off his stupor "This is what I came for. But first, I don't want to risk getting interrupted or maybe even arrested if some muggle wanders this way and sees what I'm doing."

Giving it some thought he decided to once again make use of the notice-me-not spell. Several charms layered about the headstone later and he was satisfied that he would be able to paint himself blue and run around naked in circles singing the national anthem without even raising a passer-by's eyebrow.

Setting to work he began digging, mentally sending thanks to Lady Gwen for advising he spend his afternoon yesterday learning a simple excavation charm for this very purpose. In a surprisingly short amount of time there was a sizeable pile of dirt off to the side and the coffin of Tom Riddle Sr was now clearly visible.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_," he incanted, levitating the coffin up out of the earth.

Tucking his wand away again, he approached the coffin and attempted to lift the lid only to find it sealed shut. Frowning he wondered what to do before deciding that he had no particular desire to view the body itself and may as well destroy the entire thing, coffin and all. Nodding at his decision, he took several steps back and pointed his wand at the casket.

"_Incendio_," he stated firmly.

Fire leapt from his wand and the foot of the coffin was set alight. Unfortunately it seemed the spell was designed to simply light the target then stop. Frowning he pointed his wand once again and focussed on maintaining the spell rather than letting it taper off. To his delight it did as he hoped and he was able to let his wand direct the flame to spread all the way up the coffin until the whole thing was set ablaze.

Stepping back to distance himself from the heat of the flames he maintained the spell, hoping to speed the process along. Sure enough no more than ten minutes later all that remained of the coffin and body of Tom Riddle Sr was ash and a burned patch of grass. Deciding to be extra careful, he then cast an _Evanesco_ at the ashes, vanishing the remains.

"-over here somewhere!"

Jumping and spinning around he looked up to see a pair of muggle men approaching. Holding his breath and hoping his notice-me-not charms were as effective as he believed he watched them come closer, listening in to their conversation in order to discern why they were here.

"Are you sure?" a wiry looking man asked his fellow, "I can't see anything here."

"Of course I'm sure. This here's were the smoke came from isn't it?"

Evan winced. Well, he couldn't be expected to get everything right, could he? Still, if the charms worked right then…

"Well I'm not seeing anything. Maybe it was some kids playing a trick."

The two continued approaching, before suddenly veering off and Evan sighed in relief. They hadn't been able to overpower the charms to notice either him or the open grave.

"Might be right. What say we head on back?"

"Sounds like a fine idea to me."

He remained still as he watched the two figures retreat, a satisfied smile on his lips. Once they were out of sight he turned back to the pile of dirt and cast a spell, sending it back into the empty grave. Frowning, he stared at the sunken area that was made now that the coffin was gone. Wondering what to do he eventually decided to simply leave the notice-me-not charms up. Hopefully by the time the magic failed and they faded away nature should have taken care of the problem and levelled the ground out for him. Happy with his decision and how smoothly the entire venture had gone – the blunder with the smoke aside – he portkeyed back home.

..ooOOoo..

**ABANDONED & ADOPTED**

**This was my very first story, and looking back I'm both proud and a bit embarrassed by it. Though I decided to leave it up, I'm afraid I long ago lost interest in continuing it. However, I consider my abandoned stories open to other authors interested in continuing them (so long as they ask first). This is what has happened with 'Second Life'. You can find the details of the adoption and a link to the new story on my profile page.**


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